THE 

STARBUCKS 


OPIE  READ 


^&3agfsS^ 

EX  tlBPUS 


THE  STARBUCKS 


The 

Starbucks 


A  New  Novel 
by  Opie  Read 

Author  of 

"The  Jucklins,  "Old  Ebenezer" 
"My  Young  Master"  "A  Tennessee 
Judge,"  "  A  Kentucky  Colonel," 
"Len  Gansett,"  "On  the  Suwanee 
River"  "Emmett  Bonlore,"  Etc. 


Character  Illustrations,  True  to  Life,  Reproduced  in  Colon 


Laird  dsf  Lee^  Chicago 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1902, 

BY  WILLIAM  H.  LEE, 

in    the    office   of   the   Librarian    of   Congress,   at 
Washington,    D.  C. 


Contents 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  The  People  of  the  Hills, 7 

II.  Jim,  the  Preacher, 17 

III.  Getting  Acquainted 32 

IV.  At  the  Post  Office, 50 

V.  Couldn't  Quarrel  in  Peace,    .....       63 

VI.  Hadn't  Listened, .84 

VII.  Not  So  Far  Out  of  the  World,       .         .         .          .102 

VIII.  The  Spirit  that  Played  with  Her,  .         .         .          .     1 1 1 

IX.  At  Dry  Fork, 118 

X.  Tied  to  a  Tree, .     134 

XI.  Reading  the  News,        .         .  .         .         .148 

XII.  Didn't  Do  Anything  Heroic,  .         .         .         .166 

XIII.  Might  Wipe  her  Feet  on  Him,       .         .         .         .183 

XIV.  An  Old  Man  Preached, 198 

XV.  The  Girl  and  the  Churn, 207 

XVI.  The  Appointment  Comes, 220 

XVII.  Not  to  Tell  Her  a  Lie, 234 

XVIII.  Down  the  Road, 252 

XIX.  Old  Folks  Left  Alone,         .          .         .         .        '.     263 

XX.  Met  it  in  the  Road, 271 

XXI.  Into  the  World  beyond  the  Hills,         .         .          .279 

XXII.  Came  to  Weep, 287 

XXIII.  A  Trip  Not  Without  Incident,        ....     296 

XXIV.  Two  Fruitful  Witnesses, 303 

XXIV.     Too  Proud  to  Beg, 312 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

REPRODUCED  IN  COLORS  FROM  PHOTOGRAPHS 


PAGE 

"She  was  the  only  mother  I  knowed,"         .         .         Frontispiece 

"Them  what  hain't  had  trouble  ain't  had  no  cause  to  look 

fur  the  Lord,"    . 48 

"Yes,  I  d-d-d-do  say  so,  a-a-a-atter  a  f-f-f -fash ion."  .  80 
"Kotch  'em  stealin'  hosses,  I  reckon."  .  .  .  .128 
"Well,"  Margaret  exclaimed,  "I  never  was  so  surprised."  208 

"Go   on  erway   an'   let   me   talk   ter   myse'f.      You   kaint 

talk." 240 

"If  you  air  the  Jedge,  I  am  sorter  diserp'inted  in  you."        .     288 

"Jedge,  there  ain't  no  better  man  than  he  is,  an'  for  the 

Lord's  sake  don't  hang  him."     .....     304 


"THE  STARBUCKS." 

[From  the  Drama  of  the  Same  Name,] 
CHAPTER  I. 

THE  PEOPLE  OF  THE  HILLS. 

In  every  age  of  the  world  people  who  live  close 
to  nature  have,  by  the  more  cultivated,  been  classed 
as  peculiar.  An  ignorant  nation  is  brutal,  but  an 
uneducated  community  in  the  midst  of  an  enlight 
ened  nation  is  quaint,  unconsciously  softened  by  the 
cultivation  and  refinement  of  institutions  that  lie 
far  away.  In  such  communities  live  poets  with 
lyres  attuned  to  drollery.  Moved  by  the  grandeurs 
of  nature,  the  sunrise,  the  sunset,  the  storm  among 
the  mountains,  the  tiller  of  the  gullied  hill-side  field 
is  half  dumb,  but  with  those  apt  "few  words  which 
are  seldom  spent  in  vain,"  he  charicatures  his  own 
sense  of  beauty,  mingling  rude  metaphor  with  the 
language  of  "manage"  to  a  horse. 

I  find  that  I  am  speaking  of  a  certain  community 
in  Tennessee.  And  perhaps  no  deductions  drawn 
from  a  general  view  of  civilization  would  apply  to 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

these  people.  Some  of  their  feuds,  it  is  said,  may 
be  traced  back  to  the  highlands  of  Scotland,  and  it 
is  true  that  many  of  their  expressions  seem  to  come 
from  old  books  which  they  surely  have  never  read, 

. 

but  they  do  not  eat  oats,  nor  do  they  stand  in  sour 
awe  of  Sunday.  What  religion  they  have  is  a  pleas 
ure  to  them.  In  the  log  meeting-house  they  pray 
and  sing,  sometimes  with  a  half-open  eye  on  a  fel 
low  to  be  "thrashed"  on  the  following  day  for  not 
having  voted  as  he  agreed;  "Amen"  comes  fer 
vently  from  a  corner  made  warm  by  the  ardor  of 
the  repentant  sinner;  "Hallelujah!"  is  shouted  from 
the  mourner's  bench,  and  a  woman  in  nervous 
ecstasy  pops  her  streaming  hair;  but  the  average 
man  has  come  to  talk  horse  beneath  the  trees,  and 
the  young  fellow  with  sun-burnt  down  on  his  lip  is 
there  slily  to  hold  the  hand  of  a  maid  frightened 
with  happiness  and  boastingly  to  whisper  shy  words 
of  love. 

"Do  you  like  Sam  Bracken?"  he  inquires. 

"Not  much." 

"If  you  like  him  much,  I  bet  I  can  whup  him. 
Like  Steve  Smith?" 

—  10  — 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  THE  HILLS. 

"Not  so  powerful  well." 

''I  can  whup  him." 

"Bet  you  can't." 

"You  wait." 

And  the  chances  are  that  unless  she  modifies  her 
statement  the  Smith  boy  will  be  compelled  to  an 
swer  for  the  crime  of  her  compliment. 

In  this  community,  in  the  edge  of  what  is  known 
as  East  Tennessee,  the  memory  of  Andrew  Jack 
son  is  held  in  deepest  reverence.  To  those  people 
he  was  as  a  god-like  hero  of  antiquity.  Single- 
handed  he  defeated  the  British  at  New  Orleans. 
Nicholas  Biddle,  a  great  banker  somewhere  away 
off  yonder,  had  gathered  all  the  money  in  the 
land,  and  it  was  Jackson  who  compelled  him  to  dis 
gorge,  thus  not  only  establishing  himself  as  the 
master  of  war,  but  as  the  crusher  of  men  who  op 
press  the  poor. 

Prominent  in  the  neighborhood  of  Smithfield,  a 
town  of  three  or  four  hundred  inhabitants,  was  Jas 
per  Starbuck.  Earlier  in  his  life  he  had  whipped 
every  man  who  stood  in  need  of  that  kind  of  train- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

ing.  Usually  of  a  blythesome  nature,  he  was  sub 
ject  to  fits  of  melancholy,  only  to  be  relieved  by 
some  sort  of  physical  entanglement  with  an  enemy. 
Then,  his  "spell"  having  passed,  he  would  betake 
himself  to  genial  affairs,  help  a  neighbor  with  his 
work,  lend  his  chattels  to  shiftless  farmers,  cut 
wood  and  haul  it  for  widows,  and  gathering  chil 
dren  about  him  entertain  them  with  stories  of  the 
great  war. 

And  how  dearly  that  war  had  cost  him.  East 
Tennessee  did  not  tear  itself  loose  from  the  Union; 
Andrew  Johnson  and  Parson  Brownlow,  one  a 
statesman  and  the  other  a  fanatic,  strangled  the 
edicts  of  the  lordly  lowlanders  and  sent  regiment- 
after  regiment  to  the  Federal  army.  Among  the 
first  to  enlist  were  old  Jasper  Starbuck  and  his  twin 
boys.  The  boys  did  not  come  back.  In  the  mean 
time  their  heart-broken  mother  died,  and  when  the 
father  returned  to  his  desolate  home,  there  was  a 
grave  beneath  the  tree  where  he  had  heard  a  sweet 
voice  in  the  evening. 

Years  passed  and  he  married  again,  a  poor  girl 
in  need  of  a  home;  and  at  the  time  which  serves 
—  12  — 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  THE  HILLS. 

as  the  threshold  of  this  history,  he  was  sobered 
down  from  his  former  disposition  to  go  out  upon  a 
"pilgrimage"  of  revenge.  His  "spells"  had  been 
cured  by  grief,  but  nothing  could  kill  his  humor. 
Drawling  and  peculiar,  never  boisterous,  it  was 
stronger  than  his  passion  and  more  enduring  than 
the  memory  of  a  wrong.  He  was  not  a  large  man. 
A  neighbor  said  that  he  was  built  after  the  manner 
of  a  wild-cat.  He  was  of  iron  sinew  and  steel  nerve. 
His  eyes  were  black  with  a  glint  of  their  youthful 
devilishness.  His  thick  hair  was  turning  gray. 

Margaret,  his  wife,  was  a  tender  scold.  She  was 
almost  a  foundling,  but  a  believer  in  heredity  could 
trace  in  her  the  evidences  of  good  blood.  From 
some  old  mansion,  long  years  in  ruin,  a  grace  had 
escaped  and  come  to  her.  An  Englishman,  travel 
ing  homeward  from  the  defunct  colony  of  Rugby, 
declared  that  she  was  an  uncultivated  duchess. 

"This  union  was  blessed," — say  the  newspapers 
and  story-books,  speaking  of  a  marriage, — "with  a 
beautiful  girl,"  or  a  "manly  boy."  Often  this  phrase 
is  flattery,  but  sometimes,  as  in  this  instance,  it  is 
the  truth.  Lou  Starbuck  was  beautiful.  In  her 
-13  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

earlier  youth  she  was  a  delicious  little  riot  of  joy. 
As  she  grew  older,  she  was  sometimes  serious  with 
the  thought  that  her  father  and  mother  had  suf 
fered.  She  loved  the  truth  and  believed  that  brav 
ery  was  not  only  akin  to  godliness,  but  the  right 
hand  of  godliness. 

In  Starbuck's  household,  or  at  least  attached  to 
his  log-house  establishment,  there  were  two  other 
persons,  an  old  black  mammy  who  had  nursed  Jas 
per,  and  a  trifling  negro  named  Kintchin. 

One  day  in  summer  there  came  two  notable  vis 
itors,  Mrs.  Mayfield,  and  her  nephew  Tom  Elliott, 
both  from  Nashville,  sister  and  son  of  a  United 
States  Judge.  When  they  came  to  Jasper's  house, 
they  decided  to  go  no  further. 

"Tom,"  said  the  woman,  "this  is  the  place  we  are 
looking  for." 

Tom  caught  sight  of  Lou  Starbuck,  standing  in 
the  doorway,  and  replied :  "Auntie,  I  guess  you  are 
right." 

The  mere  suggestion  of  taking  boarders  threw 
the  household  into  a  flurry,  but  Mrs.  Mayfield,  tall, 
graceful,  handsome,  threw  her  charm  upon  opposi- 
—  H  — 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  THE  HILLS. 

tion  and  it  faded  away.  Old  Jasper  was  not  over 
cordial  to  "store  clothes,"  at  least  he  was  not  con 
fidential,  and  with  the  keen  whip  of  his  eye  he 
lashed  Tom  Elliott,  but  the  boy  appeared  to  be 
frank  and  manly. 

"Of  course  you  can  stay  as  long  as  you  want  to," 
said  Jasper,  "but  I  reckon  you'll  have  to  put  on 
some  homespun  and  a  checked  hickory  shirt  or 
two,  befo'  you  kin  put  up  with  our  fare." 

"Now,  please,  don't  worry  about  that,"  Mrs. 
Mayfield  spoke  up.  "We  can  eat  parched  corn  if 
necessary.  We  have  come  from  the  city  to  rest, 
and—" 

"Rest,"  Jasper  broke  in,  looking  at  the  young 
fellow.  "Why,  he  don't  look  like  he  ever  done  any- 
thin'.  Never  plowed  a  day  in  your  life,  did  you?" 

"I  must  confess  that  I  haven't,"  Tom  replied. 

"Thar,  I  knowed  it."  And  then  speaking  to  Mrs. 
Mayfield,  he  added:  "All  right,  mam,  we'll  do  the 
best  we  kin  fur  you.  Got  the  same  names  here 
that  you  had  down  whar  you  come  from?" 

Tom  laughed.  His  aunt  reproved  him  with  a 
look.  "Why,  of  course.  What  object  would  we 
have  in  changing  them?" 

—  15  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Don't  ask  me,  mam.  I  never  know  what  ob 
ject  nobody  has — ain't  my  business.  Here,  Kint- 
chin,"  he  called  to  the  negro,  "take  them  trunks 
outen  the  wagin  and  then  you  may  go  to  sleep 
ag'in. 

Kintchin  came  round  a  corner  of  the  house,  rub 
bing  his  eyes.  "Talkin'  ter  me,  suh?" 

"You  hearn  me." 

"Said  suthin'  erbout  gwine  ter  sleep.  I  jest  wan- 
ter  tell  you  dat  I  ain't  slep'  none  fur  er  week,  an'  ef 
you  'sinuate  at  me— 

"Go  on  there.  Now  mam,  ef  you'll  jest  step  in 
we'll  do  the  best  we  kin." 

"Oh,  thank  you.    How  courteous  you  are."- 

"How  what?  I  reckon  you  better  git  along  with 
out  much  o'  that.  Don't  want  nobody  put  on  a 
strain.  Margaret,  here  are  some  folks,"  he  con 
tinued  as  his  wife  made  her  appearance.  "Jest 
tell  'em  howdy  and  let  'em  alone." 

She  bowed  to  Tom  and  to  Mrs.  Mayfield.  "And 
befo'  you  make  yo'selves  at  home,"  she  said,  "I 
hope  you'll  1'arn  not  to  pay  no  attention  to  Jasper. 
Lou,  haven't  you  spoke  to  the  folks?" 

"No'm,  but  I  can.    Howdy." 
—  16  — 


JIM,  THE  PREACHER. 
CHAPTER  II. 

JIM,  THE  PREACHER. 

During  the  rest  of  the  day  the  visitors  were  per 
mitted  to  amuse  themselves.  Lou  was  shy,  Mar 
garet  was  distantly  respectful  and  the  old  man  went 
about  in  leisurely  attendance  upon  his  affairs,  not 
yet  wholly  unsuspicious.  A  week  before  the  arri 
val  of  the  ''folks  from  off  yander,"  as  the  strangers 
were  termed,  there  had  come  to  Jasper's  house  a 
nephew,  Jim  Starbuck,  a  mountain-side  preacher. 
His  air  bespoke  that  gentleness  resultant  of  pas 
sion  bound  and  gaged.  At  eighteen  he  had  been 
known  as  the  terror  of  the  creek.  Without  avail 
old  Jasper  had  argued  with  him,  with  fresh  scalps 
dangling  at  his  own  belt.  One  night  Jim  turned 
a  revival  meeting  into  a  fight  with  bench  legs, 
beat  a  hard-hearted  money  lender  until  he  was  tak 
en  home  almost  a  mass  of  pulp.  At  nineteen  he 
turned  a  hapless  school  teacher  out  of  the  school 
house,  nailed  up  the  door,  and  because  the  teacher 
muttered  against  it,  threw  the  pedagogue  into  the 
—  17  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

creek.  At  twenty  he  seemed  to  hear  a  voice  com 
ing  from  afar.  A  man  going  to  mill  said  that  he 
saw  Jim  beside  a  log  on  his  knees  in  the  woods, 
praying;  he  was  called  a  liar,  knocked  down  his 
insulter  and  went  on  with  his  grist.  He  had  spoken 
the  truth,  for  on  the  night  following,  Jim  arose  in 
the  congregation,  renounced  his  reckless  ways,  and 
with  a  defiance  of  the  world  that  among  the  right 
eous  awaked  applause,  he  came  forward  and  knelt 
at  the  mourners'  bench.  His  religion  "took,"  they 
said,  as  if  speaking  of  vaccination,  and  before  long 
he  entered  the  pulpit,  ready  gently  to  crack  the  irre 
ligious  heads  of  former  companions  still  stubborn 
in  the  ways  of  iniquity.  From  behind  a  plum  bush, 
in  the  corner  of  the  fence,  he  had  seen  Mrs.  May- 
field  and  had  blinked,  as  if  dazzled  by  a  great  light. 
Nor  was  it  till  the  close  of  day  that  he  had  the 
courage  to  come  into  her  presence,  and  then  for  a 
moment  he  gazed — and  vanished.  Old  Jasper 
found  him  mumbling  beneath  the  moon. 

"Lost  anythin',  Jim?" 

"Nothing  that  I  ever  thought  I  had,  Uncle  Jas 
per." 

—  18  — 


JIM,  THE  PREACHER. 

"Look   like  a  man  that  is   huntin'   fur  his  ter- 
backer." 

"I've  quit  tobacco  long  ago,  Uncle  Jasper." 
"Huh,  give  that  up,  too?  Then  you  have  been 
hit  hard.  But  atter  all,  my  boy,  a  lick  that  ain't 
hard  don't  count  fur  much.  Understand  I  believe 
in  yo'  Book  all  right,  but  not  as  the  most  of  'em 
reads  it.  The  most  of  'em  reads  it  so  as  to  make 
you  do  the  things  you  don't  want  to  do,  and  what 
they  want  you  to  do.  A  good  many  of  'em  think 
it  was  writ  fur  them  ag'in  you.  Findin'  new  pic- 
turs  on  the  moon,  Jim?  I  don't  see  nuthin'  new; 
same  old  feller  a  burnin'  of  his  bresh,  allus  a  put- 
tin*  'em  on  the  fire  an'  never  gittin'  through." 
"I'm  thinking,  that's  all,  Uncle  Jasper." 
"Comes  from  readin'  them  books  up  on  the  hill 
top,  I  reckon.  They  make  me  think,  too,  when  I 
git  a  holt  of  'em,  'specially  them  about  the  war — 
looks  like  it's  a  mighty  hard  matter  for  a  man 
to  tell  the  truth  the  minit  he  grabs  holt  of  a  pen. 
Don't  see  why  a  pen  is*  such  a  liar,  but  it  is.  And 
yit,  the  biggist  liar  I  ever  seed  couldn't  more  than 

in 

—  i  &      • 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

write  his  name.  What  do  you  think  of  them  folks 
in  thar,  Jim?" 

Jim  strode  off,  came  back  and  standing  with  one 
hand  resting  on  the  rail  fence  that  surrounded  the 
old  man's  door  yard,  hung  his  head  and  replied: 
"Old  Satan  sometimes  puts  good  clothes  on  his 
temptations,  Uncle  Jasper." 

"Why,  you  don't  think  that  young  feller's  a  nos- 
in'  round  to — " 

"I  don't  see  anything  mysterious  in  him,  Uncle 
Jasper.  It's  the  woman  that — that  strikes  so  hard." 

"Huh.  I  didn't  think  you  cared  anythin'  about 
women,  Jim." 

"Oh,  I  don't  and  you  musn't  think  I  do.  Did 
you  ever  have  a  feller  catch  a  spear  out  of  the  sun 
with  a  lookin'  glass  and  shoot  it  through  yo'  eyes? 
That's  the  way  she  done  me,  as  she  was  a  standing 
there  at  the  door." 

"Wall,  as  game  a  feller  as  you  are  ain't  afeared 
of  a  woman." 

"I  don't  know  about  that.  The  gamer  a  feller 
is  among  men  the  fearder  he  is  among  women,  it 
seems  like.  But  what  am  I  talking  about?  She 
—  20  — 


JIM,  THE  PREACHER. 

won't  take  any  notice  of  me  and  in  fact  it  won't 
make  any  difference  if  she  does.  I  tell  you,  though, 
I  don't  like  to  be  treated  that  way  by  a  woman." 

"Why,  how  did  she  treat  you?" 

"Looked  something1  at  me  that  made  me  dis 
satisfied  with  myself.  I  reckon  I  must  be  a  good 
deal  of  a  fool,  Uncle  Jasper." 

"Wall,  I  don't  reckon  you  are  as  smart  as  old 
Henry  Clay  was.  Still  you  ain't  no  slouch.  Come 
on  in  and  I'll  give  you  a  knockin'  down  to  her. 
She  can't  no  mo'  than  hit  you  with  somethin'." 

When  introduced  Jim  shied  off  into  a  corner  and 
there  during  the  evening  he  remained,  gazing  at 
the  woman  from  "off  yander,"  with  scarcely  cour 
age  enough  to  utter  a  word.  Mrs.  Mayfield  in 
quired  as  to  his  church  among  the  hills,  and  his 
countenance  flared  with  a  silly  light  and  old  Jasper 
ducked  his  head  and  snorted  in  the  sleeve  of  his 
home-spun  shirt.  But  the  next  morning  Jim  had 
the  courage  to  appear  at  the  breakfast  table,  still 
gazing;  and  later  when  Tom  and  his  aunt  went  out 
for  a  walk,  he  followed  along  like  a  dog  waiting  to 
be  scolded. 

—  21  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

Several  days  later,  while  old  black  mammy  was 
ironing  in  the  sitting  room,  Kintchin  came  in  at  the 
door  which  always  stood  open,  and  looking  about, 
slowly  went  up  to  the  old  woman  and  inquired  if 
she  needed  any  more  wood. 

"No,"  she  answered,  not  looking  at  him,  "I's 
nearly  done." 

Kintchin  scratched  his  head.  "Wall,  I  jest  come 
ter  tell  you  dat  ef  you  does  need  any  mo'  I  knows 
er  man  dat'll  git  it  fur  you.  Me.  An'  w'en  er  man 
fetches  er  lady  de  sort  o'  wood  I'd  fetch  you,  w'y 
she  kin  tell  right  dar  whut  he  think  o'  her.  Does 
you  hyarken  ter  me?" 

Mammy,  slowly  moving  her  iron,  looked  at  him. 
"Whut  de  matter  wid  you,  man?  Ain't  habin' 
spells,  is  you?" 

"I's  in  lub,  lady,  dat's  whut  de  matter  wid  me." 

"In  lub?    In  lub  wid  who?" 

He  leaned  toward  her.     "Wid  you." 

"W'y  you  couldn't  lub  me,"  she  said.  "I's  eighty 
odd  an'  you  ain't  but  sixty.  I's  too  old  fur  you. 
I  doan  want  ter  fool  wid  no  chile." 

Kintchin  came  closer  and  made  an  attempt  to 
—  22  — 


JIM,  THE  PREACHER. 

take  her  hand,  shrewdly  watching  the  hot  iron  slow 
ly  moving  over  the  bosom  of  a  shirt.  "Fll  burn  dat 
black  hide  ef  you  doan  git  erway.  You  bodders 

me." 

The  old  rascal  assumed  an  air  of  great  astonish 
ment.  "Whut,  er  man  bodder  er  lady  dat  he  lubs?" 

"Didn't  I  tole  you  you  couldn't  lub  me?" 

"Couldn't  lub  you?  Ain't  you  been  er  savin'  yo' 
money  all  deze  years,  an'  ef  er  man  kain't  lub  er 
lady  dat's  been  er  savin'  her  money,  who  kin  he 
lub?" 

She  gave  him  a  look  of  contempt.  "Oh,  I  knowd 
dar  wuz  er  bug  in  de  milk  pan.  It's  my  little  bit 
o'  money  you's  atter,  but  you  ain't  gwine  ter  git 
it.  Dat  money's  ter  bury  me  wid."  And  in  a  self- 
satisfied  way  she  nodded  at  him  and  resumed  her 
work. 

Kintchin  stepped  back,  the  word  'bury'  having 
thrown  a  temporary  pall  upon  his  cupidity,  but  soon 
he  rallied  and  renewed  his  attack.  "Funny  dat  er 
lady  will  save  all  her  life  long  jest  ter  be  buried. 
I  doan  blebe  in  deze  yere  'spensive  funuls  nohow. 
Huh,  an'  you  oughter  hab  ernuff  by  dis  time  ter 
—  23  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

bury  bof  o'  us.  An'  ef  you  says  de  word  I'll  be 
buried  side  o'  you  ter  keep  you  comp'ny." 

She  ceased  her  work  and  looked  at  him.  "I  won't 
need  no  comp'ny.  I'll  be  busy  tellin'  de  Lawd  'bout 
de  folks  down  yere.  An,  I  gwine  tell  him,  w'in  I 
goes  home." 

She  gathered  up  the  clothes  basket  and  went  in 
to  an  adjoining  room,  leaving  Kintchin  to  muse 
alone.  He  heard  the  low  whistle  of  a  backwoods 
man's  improvised  tune,  and  looking  up,  saw  a  man 
leaning  against  the  door-facing.  To  the  old  negro 
the  new  comer  was  not  a  stranger.  Once  that  big 
foot  had  kicked  him  out  of  the  road,  and  lying  in 
his  straw  bed  the  poor  wretch  had  burned  with  re 
sentment,  cowed,  helpless;  and  sleeping,  had 
dreamed  of  killing  the  brute  and  awoke  with  a  tune 
on  his  black  lips.  He  knew  Lije  Peters,  neighbor 
hood  bully  without  being  a  coward,  a  born  black 
mailer,  a  ruffian  with  the  touch  of  humor,  ignorant 
with  sometimes  an  allegorical  cast  of  speech.  As 
he  entered  the  room  he  looked  about  and  seeing 
no  one  else,  spoke  to  Kintchin: 

"Whar's  Jasper  Starbuck?" 


JIM,  THE  PREACHER. 

"I  seed  Miss  Margaret  an'  Miss  Lou  out  yander 
jest  now,"  Kintchin  answered,  backing  off  as  Peters 
advanced  toward  him. 

"I  didn't  ask  about  them.    Whew,  what  you  got 
sich  a  hot  fire  in  here  for?" 
"Mammy's  been  ironin'." 

"Yes.  Been  a  meltin  iron  I  should  think.  Is 
Starbuck  at  kome?  Answer  me,  you  scoundrel." 
He  made  a  threatening  gesture  and  Kintchin,  back 
ing  further  off,  cried  out,  "Doan  rush  me,  suh.  Ef 
Fse  er  scoundul  you  hatter  give  me  time.  Er 
scoundul  hatter  be  keerful  whut  he  say.  I  seed 
Mr.  Starbuck  dis  mawnin',  suh." 

Peters  turned  as  if  to  go  out,  but  halted  and 
looked  at  Kintchin.  The  old  negro  nodded.  "Say, 
is  that  young  feller  and  that  woman  here  yit?" 

"Gimmy  time — gimmy  time.  I's  er  scoundul, 
you  know." 

"Do  you  want  me  to  mash  your  head?" 
Kintchin  put  his  hand  to  his  head.     "Whut,  dis 
one  right  yere?  No,  suh,  I  doan  blebe  I  does." 
"Well,  then  answer  me.    That  woman  and  young 

chap  here  yet?" 

—  25  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Yas,  suh,  da's  yere." 
"She's  his  aunt,  I  understand." 
"Yas,  suh,  dat's  whut  you  un'erstand." 
"Why  did  they  come  here?  What  are  they  doin'?" 
"Gimmy  time.    Da  come  caze  da  wanter  ter,  an* 
now  dat  da's  yere,  da's  jest  er  bo'din';  dat's  all." 
"You  are  an  old  fool." 

"Yas,  suh,"  replied  Kintchin,  "dat's  whut  I  yere." 
Mammy    came    in    and    said    to    Kintchin,    "De 
steers  broke  down  de  fence  an'  is  eatin'  up  de  co'n. 
See,  through  de  winder?" 

"Dat  won't  do,"  Kintchin  exclaimed  with  hurry 
in  his  voice  but  with  passive  feet.  "No,  it  won't 
do.  Steer  ain't  got  no  right  ter  come  roun'  er  eatin' 
up  de  co'n." 

"But  w'y  doan  you  go  on,  man?  Mars  Jasper'll 
git  arter  you." 

"I's  gwine.  Allus  suthin'  ter  make  er  man  work 
his  j'ints,"  he  moved  off  toward  the  door,  and  turn 
ing  just  before  going  out,  said  to  Peters:  "Yere 
come  Miss  Lou  now." 

The   girl    came    in    singing,    but   seeing    Peters, 
hushed,  and  turned  to  go  out. 
—  26  — 


JIM,  THE  PREACHER. 

"One  minute,  Miss  Lou,"  said  Peters,  bowing 
awkwardly. 

She  halted,  looked  at  him  and  said,  "Well?" 

"Won't  you  sit  down,"  said  Peters,  making  a 
great  show  of  politeness. 

"I'm  not  tired,"  Lou  replied. 

Peters  smiled.  "I've  got  suthin'  I  want  to  say 
to  you." 

"Then  I  may  be  tired,"  she  said,  sitting  down. 
"Well?" 

Peters  stood  for  a  moment,  looking  at  her  and 
then  inquired:  "Did  yo'  father  tell  you  suthin'  I 
said  to  him?" 

Slowly  rocking  she  looked  up  at  him.  "He  al 
ways  has  enough  talk  of  his  own  without  repeatin' 
what  other  folks  say." 

"But  what  I  told  him  was  about  you." 

"Well,  if  what  you  said  wasn't  good  you  wouldn't 
be  here  to  tell  about  it,  so  it  don't  concern  me." 

He  attempted  to  smile,  but  failed.  "I  don't  know 
about  that." 

"You  don't  know  about  anything — much." 
"Enough  to  know  what  I  think  of  you." 
—  27  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Hope  you  know  what  I  think  of  you." 

"Ah,"  said  Peters,  "I  don't  reckon  you  think  of 
me  very  often." 

Lou  got  up  and  went  to  him,  looked  straight  into 
his  eyes  and  said:  "Think  of  you!  Why,  I  never 
know  you  are  on  earth  till  you  come  where  I  am 
and  then  I  spend  my  time  tryin'  to  forget  you  are 
there." 

"Well,  now,"  replied  Peters,  "that  ain't  very  po 
lite." 

She  stepped  back  and  looked  at  him  in  pretended 
astonishment,  "Was  anybody  ever  polite  to  you?" 

"Well,  not  many  of  the  Starbucks,  that's  a  fact — 
none,  come  to  think  of  it  'cept  yo'  cousin  Jim,  the 
preacher,  and  he  believes  that  the  Lord  made  all 
things  for  a  purpose." 

"Yes,  he  believes  that  God  made  the  devil." 

Peters  laughed  as  if  he  really  enjoyed  her  con 
tempt  of  him.  He  pulled  at  his  whiskers,  cleared 
hie  throat,  took  a  turn  about  the  room  and  looking 
at  her  again,  he  appeared  as  if  he  had  attempted  to 
soften  his  countenance  with  a  sentiment  urgently 
summoned.  "Yes,  that  is  all  true,  I  reckon.  And 
—  28  — 


JIM,  THE  PREACHER. 

now  let  me  tell  you.  I  mout  not  look  like  it — like 
I'm  hard  to  please,  but  I  am.  Thar  ain't  one  wo 
man  out  of  a  hundred  that  can  make  me  wake  up 
when  I'm  sleepy  and  think  about  her,  but  you  can. 
And  ever  sense  you  was  a  child  I've  said  I'd  never 
marry  till  I  could  git  you."  He  saw  the  anger  in 
her  eyes  and  hesitated.  "Ah,  you  may  not  think 
very  much  of  me  now,"  he  continued,  "but  that  can 
all  be  changed.  A  woman's  like  a  mornin'  glory 
flower — always  a  changin';  an'  I  know  you  could 
learn  to  love  me." 

"Oh,  you  do.  Well,  what  you  know  and  what's 
the  truth  won't  never  know  each  other  well  enough 
to  shake  hands." 

Peters  smiled  upon  her.  "Wall,  if  nuthin'  else 
did,  that  of  itself  would  prove  you  air  old  Jasper's 
daughter." 

Margaret  Starbuck  came  in,  with  a  pan  of  tur 
nips.  Peters  bowed  to  her.  "Er  good  mornin', 
ma'm." 

She  put  the  pan  on  the  table  and  giving  him  an 
unconscious  grace  bade  him  good  morning.  "Is 
mammy  done  ironin'?"  she  asked,  speaking  to  Lou. 
29 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Yes'm,  I  reckon  so."  Then  she  added,  speak 
ing  to  Peters,  "Is  there  anythin'  else  you  wanted?" 

"Why,  Lou,"  Margaret  spoke  up,  "is  that  the 
way  to  talk?" 

"Yes'm,  sometimes,"  and  nodding  at  Peters  she 
added:  "And  this  is  one  of  them."  She  laughed, 
turned  away  and  sat  down  with  her  elbows  resting 
on  a  battered  old  melodeon." 

"Oh,  she's  jest  a  jokin'  with  me  ma'm,"  said 
Peters.  "I  wanted  to  see  yo'  husband.  Reckon  he's 
out  some  whar  on  the  place." 

"I  think  so,"  Margaret  replied,  pealing  the  tur 
nips.  "I  heard  him  calling  the  hogs  just  now." 

Lou  looked  at  Peters  and  said:  "Then  why  don't 
you  go?" 

"Why,  daughter,"  exclaimed  Margaret,  "you 
musn't  talk  that  way.  Mr.  Peters  is  in  yo'  house." 

She  came  forward  and  to  the  visitor  bowed  with 
mock  humility.  "I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Peters — 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,  Miss  Lou." 

"For  bein'  honest  with  you." 

Peters  cleared  his  throat.  She  returned  to  the 
melodion  and  sat  down  with  her  back  toward  him. 
—  30  — 


JIM,  THE  PREACHER. 

Peters  started  out  but  halted  and  spoke  to  Margar 
et.  "Suthin'  I  have  been  workin'  fur  a  long  time 
is  about  to  come — an  app'intment  I've  been  tryin' 
to  git,  and  when  I  git  it  there  air  folks  that  ought 
to  be  skeered." 

Lou  glanced  round  at  him  and  replied,  "And 
then  again,  there  are  folks  that  won't  be." 

"Ah,"  said  Peters,  "an'  them  that  won't  be  air 
them  that  ought  to  be."  And  then  to  Margaret  he 
added:  "If  I  don't  find  Jasper  I'll  be  back.  When 
he  comes  tell  him  I  want  to  see  him.  Good  day." 

When  he  had  gone  out  into  the  road  Margaret 
inquired  of  her  daughter  what  he  had  said  to  give 
such  offense. 

"He  said  I  could  learn  to  love  him.  And  I  as 
much  as  told  him  he  was  a  liar." 

"But,  daughter,  you  musn't  talk  like  that.  You'll 
have  to  be  more  careful  with  him,  for  in  some  way 
he's  got  the  upper  hand  of  yo'  father." 

"Well,  I  don't  envy  him  his  job." 

"Hush,"  said  Margaret.    "Here  come  the  folks." 


—  31  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 
CHAPTER  III. 

GETTING  ACQUAINTED. 

In  came  Mrs.  Mayfield  and  her  nephew,  with 
Jim,  the  preacher,  following  them.  Margaret  be 
gan  industriously  to  dust  a  rocking  chair.  She  bade 
them  come  in,  if  it  were  not  too  warm,  "Mammy 
has  been  ironing  but  the  fire's  dyin'  down.  And  I 
do  hope  she  irons  yo'  clothes  to  suit  you,  Miz  May- 
field,"  she  added. 

''Oh,  yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Mayfield,  glancing  round 
at  the  preacher  who  with  hat  in  hand  sat  on  the 
melodeon  stool,  gazing  at  her.  "I  am  not  hard  to 
please,"  she  continued,  speaking  to  Margaret.  "1 
have  passed  that  stage." 

Margaret  bowed  to  her.  "Well,  I'm  mighty  glad 
to  hear  it.  So  many  folks  are  hard  to  please.  There 
come  a  woman  from  away  off  yander  sometime  ago 
and  took  up  over  at  Fetterson's  and  they  couldn't 
do  a  thing  to  please  her — grumbled  all  the  time; 
the  water  wasn't  even  good,  when  heaven  knows 
we've  got  the  best  water  on  the  yeth.  So  I  am  glad 
you  ain't  hard  to  please." 

—  32  — 


GETTING  ACQUAINTED. 

"Oh,  I  should  indeed  be  finical  to  find  fault  with 
anything  in  this  delicious  air,"  said  Mrs.  Mayfield, 
smiling  at  Lou,  "this  new  life,  among  these  God- 
worshipping  hills,  these — " 

"Oh,  auntie  brought  her  romance  with  her,"  Tom 
broke  in,  and  Lou  gave  him  a  look  of  tender  re 
proof. 

"Oh,  let  her  talk,  please.  I  like  to  hear  her." 
And  standing  beside  Mrs.  Mayfield's  chair  she  said: 
"You  told  me  you  were  something.  What  was  it?" 

"An  echo  from  the  world,"  the  city  woman  ans 
wered. 

Lou  looked  at  her  mother  who  in  turn  gave  her 
a  look  in  which  the  girl  read  an  ignorance  as  pro 
found  as  her  own.  "Well,  is  sounds  mighty  putty," 
she  said,  "but  what  do  you  mean  by  it.  I  don't  un 
derstand." 

"Why  Lou!"  exclainied  her  mother.  "You 
musn't  talk  that  way." 

"Oh,  let  her  go  ahead,"  Tom  spoke  up.  "The 
fact  is  auntie  says  a  good  many  things  I'd  like  to 
have  explained  to  me. 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Tom,"  she  said,  "please  don't  be  any  more  way 
ward  than  you  can  help." 

At  this  moment  old  Jasper's  voice  was  heard 
without.  "Git  down  from  here.  Got  less  sense  than 
any  dog  I  ever  seed,  come  a  jumpin'  on  me  with 
yo'  muddy  feet.  Howdy  everybody,  howdy,"  he 
greeted  them  as  he  entered,  with  a  set  of  harness 
on  his  arm.  Every  one  spoke  to  him  and  after  sur 
veying  the  party  he  drew  a  chair  out  from  the  table, 
sat  down  and  began  to  tug  at  the  harness,  pulling 
hard  against  the  resistance  of  a  rusty  buckle. 
"Whar's  that  luther  string?"  he  inquired  of  his  wife. 
"What  luther  string?" 

"The  one  I  told  you  to  put  away  for  me  some 

time  last  fall — mebby  fall  a  year  ago.    Whar  is  it?" 

"Gracious  alive  Jasper,  I  don't  know.    What  did 

you  bring  that  gear  in  here  for?    Can't  you  fix  it 

at  the  stable?" 

"Yes,  could.     Could  also  sleep  and  eat  out  thar, 
but  I  don't  want  to." 

"Now  what  on  the  yeth  do  you  want  to  talk  that 
way  fur?" 

Jasper   chuckled.      "Wall,   a   man   ain't   hardly 
—  34  — 


GETTING  ACQUAINTED. 

responsible  for  what  he  says  when  he's  talkin'  to  a 
woman/' 

"Then  you  don't  believe,  Mr.  Starbuck,  that  wo 
man  inspires  truth/'  said  Mrs.  Mayfield,  and  Jim 
leaned  forward,  still  gazing  at  her. 

"Oh,  yes,  all  the  putty  truths,"  Jasper  replied, 
and  Tom  who,  with  Lou,  was  standing  over  near 
the  fire-place,  sang  out:  'There,  auntie,  he  is  meet 
ing  you  on  your  own  ground." 

Jim's  countenance  flared  and  he  struck  in:  "Yes, 
in  the  shade  where  the  soft  air  is  stirring." 

Mrs.  Mayfield  turned  to  him.  "Oh,  thank  you 
Mr. — I  shall  have  to  call  you  Mr.  Reverend." 

He  gave  her  a  smile  and  then  as  if  afraid  of  too 
much  light  shut  it  off;  but  he  had  the  courage  to 
reply:  "Anything  you  call  me,  ma'm,  will  be 
music." 

"Oh,  I  tell  you,"  said  Jasper,  tugging  at  the 
buckle,  "Jim  ain't  been  preachin'  ten  years  fur  noth- 
in'.  Wall,  mighty  fur  nothin',  too;  for  I  ricolleck 
that  one  winter  all  he  got  was  a  pa'r  of  blue  jeens 
britches  an'  fo'  pa'r  of  wool  socks.  And  if  I  don't 


—  35  _ 


r- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

cuss  this  thing  in  a  minit  more  I'll  be  about  fitten 
to  preach." 

"Mr.  Starbuck,"  Mrs.  Mayfield  inquired,  "was 
that  you  shooting  so  early  this  morning?" 

"Yes'm,  killin'  them  squirrels  we  had  fur  break- 
fus'." 

''And  you  saw  the  sun  rise?" 

He  left  off  working  with  his  gear  and  looked  at 
her.  "Ah,  hah.  Ever  see  the  sun  rise?" 

"I  have  seen  the  moon  set,"  she  said,  half  mu 
sing. 

"And  so  have  I,"  said  Jasper.  "I  have  seen  the 
moon  set  and  hatch  out  the  stars." 

And  still  musing,  Mrs.  Mayfield  replied:  "Yes, 
and  they  peeped  at  one  another  in  their  heavenly 
nest  until  the  sun,  man-like,  came  and  spoiled  it  all." 

Jasper  and  his  wife  looked  at  each  other,  know 
ingly  in  the  eye;  and  then  the  old  man  said:  "I 
beg  yo'  pardon,  ma'm,  but  you  must  have  had 
trouble.  But  don't  let  it  bother  you  any  mo'  than 
you  kin  help,  fur  my  experience  teaches  me  that 
them  what  hain't  had  trouble  ain't  had  no  cause 
to  look  fur  the  Lord." 

-36  — 


GETTING  ACQUAINTED. 

"Why,  Jasper  Starbuck,"  Margaret  spoke  up, 
"ain't  you  ashamed  of  yo'se'f  to  talk  about  the  Lord 
thatter  way?" 

"I  ain't  said  a  word  ag'in  Him.     Leave  it  to  the 
preacher  thar.    Have  I,  Jim?" 
"No,  Uncle  Jasper." 

"Much  obleeged  to  you,  Jim;  and  instead  of  stay- 
in*  five  weeks  with  us  as  you  said  you  'lowed  to, 
I  wush  you'd  stay  longer.  I  need  you  to  prove 
things  by.  Couldn't  make  it  five  months,  could  you, 
Jim?" 

"No,  Uncle  Jasper,  I  must  get  back  to  my  moun 
tain-side  flock.  There's  many  a  poor  old  man  tot 
tering  along  that  needs  me  to  help  him  walk." 

"That's  a  fact,"  said  Starbuck,  and  turning  to 
Mrs.  Mayfield  he  continued :  "He  settles  nearly  all 
their  troubles,  ma'm;  he's  not  only  their  church  but 
their  cou't  house.  I've  seed  him  preach  the  gospel 
with  one  hand  and  with  the  other  one  tear  up  a  law 
suit." 

Lou,  standing  on  a  chair,  had  taken  down  an  old 
gun  which  rested  upon  deer  horns  above  the  fire 
place,  and  was  exhibiting  it  to  Tom.     "My  great 
—  37  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

grand  father  carried  it  at  the  battle  of  New  Or 
leans,"  she  said;  and  reverently  the  young  man  took 
the  gun  and  pressed  the  butt  to  his  shoulder,  taking 
aim.  "No  wonder  our  country  has  a  spirit  that 
can't  be  crushed,"  he  remarked,  lowering  the  an 
cient  war  hound  and  looking  into  its  black  mouth. 

"When  we've  got  such  guns?"  she  said,  smiling 
down  upon  him,  still  standing  on  the  chair. 

"No,  not  such  guns  but  men  who  do  such  deeds 
and  women  who  are  proud  of  them/' 

Jasper  looked  round  and  saw  that  the  young  man 
in  his  carelessness  had  the  gun  pointed  at  him. 
"Here,"  he  called,  "turn  that  thing  tuther  way." 

"Why  it  isn't  loaded,  is  it?"  Tom  asked,  return 
ing  the  gun  to  Lou. 

"No,  but  them's  the  sort  that  usually  goes  off 
and  kills  folks.  Thar's  an  old  sayin',  ma'm,"  he  said 
to  Mrs.  Mayfield,  "that  thar's  danger  in  a  gun  with 
out  lock,  stock,  or  barrel — you  kin  w'ar  a  feller  out 
with  the  ram-rod." 

Lou  replaced  the  gun  and  sat  down.  Tom  stood 
over  her,  slily  showing  her  some  verses.  Mrs.  May- 
field,  glancing  round,  understood  that  it  was  a 
—  38  — 


GETTING  ACQUAINTED. 

"poetic  situation,"  and  remarked  to  Jasper.  "Just 
now  we  were  speaking  of  trouble.  Heart-hunger  is 
the  real  poetry  of  life — heart-hunger  and  heart 
ache;  our  pleasures  are  but  jingling  rhymes." 

Jasper  and  his  wife  exchanged  glances,  and  the 
old  man  said:  "Husband  dead,  ma'm?' 

"Worse  than  that,  Mr.  Starbuck." 

"Why,  ain't  that  awful,"  Margaret  declared. 

Jasper  studied  for  a  few  moments  and  then  in 
quired:  "Wan't  hung,  was  he?" 

She  shook  her  head,  sighed  and  made  answer: 
"We  were  divorced." 

Then  the  old  man  thought  to  be  consoling. 
"Well,  let  us  hope  that  you  won't  marry  him  over 
ag'in." 

"No,  his  heart  is  black." 

"There  is  a  fountain  where  it  may  be  made 
white,"  said  the  preacher. 

Sadly  she  smiled  at  him  and  replied:  "To  that 
fountain  he  would  never  go." 

Old  Jasper  jingled  and  clanked  the  iron  of  his 
harness.  "I  don't  know  much  about  fountains," 
said  he,  "but  I  know  a  good  deal  about  men,  and  I 
—  39  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

never  seed  one  with  a  black  heart  that  ever  had  ;t 
washed  out  clean.  I  never  knowd  a  scoundrel  that 
wan't  allus  a  scoundrel,  and  the  Book  don't  say 
that  the  Savior  died  for  scoundrels —  died  for  sin 
ners.  A  sinner  kin  be  a  fust-rate  feller,  full  o'  that 
weakness  that  helps  a  wretch  outen  trouble.  The 
Savior  knowed  that  and  died  for  him." 

Margaret  slammed  her  pan  of  turnips  down  upon 
the  table.  "Oh,  sometimes  I'm  so  put  out  with 
you." 

"Yes,"  drawled  the  old  man,  "and  old  Miz  Eve 
was  put  out  with  Adam,  too,  but  atter  all  the  best 
thing  she  could  do,  was  to  stick  to  him  and  go  whar 
he  went." 

"Oh,  of  course,"  said  Margaret.  "The  only  use 
a  man  ever  has  for  the  Bible  is  to  hit  a  woman  with 
it."'  She  went  over  to  a  safe,  looking  back  at  her 
husband  who  stood  watching  her,  his  droll  counte 
nance  lighted  with  a  humorous  grin;  she  began  to 
mix  meal  in  a  pan,  stirring  vigorously  to  make  up 
corn  pone,  throwing  in  water  with  a  dash.  Tom  and 
Lou  were  still  engaged  with  the  verses. 

"What  is  this  line?"  she  asked. 
—  40  — 


GETTING  ACQUAINTED. 

"  'Her  eye  a  star  of  heart's  most  gleaming 
hope,'  "  he  read,  and  she  purred  like  a  kitten. 

"What  does  it  mean?"  she  asked. 

"Why,  er — it  means  all  sorts  of  things." 

"It  sounds  like  things  you  find  in  a  book,  but  this 
is  in  writin',  isn't  it?  And — and  it  smells  like  a 
violet  in  the  woods." 

"What  have  they  got  thar,  a  mortgage?"  Jasper 
inquired  of  Mrs.  Mayfield. 

"The  beginning  of  many  a  mortgage,  Mr.  Star- 
buck;  some  verses." 

"Huh,"  grunted  the  old  man,  "I  don't  reckon 
they  are  like  some  verses  I  had  not  long  ago.  Had 
a  lawsuit  befo'  a  jestice  of  the  peace  and  they  called 
it  Starbuck  verses  Brown." 

Margaret  ceased  her  work  of  mixing  corn  pone 
and  looked  round  at  him.  "Jasper,  anybody  to 
hear  you  talk  would  think  you  don't  know  nuth- 
in'." 

"Well,"  Starbuck  replied,  "that's  the  way  to  find 

out  that  a  man  don't  know  nuthin' — by  hearin'  him 

talk.    Feller  over  the  mountains  had  a  son  that  was 

deef  and  dumb  for  twenty-odd  year.     Everybody 

—  41  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

'lowed  he  was  the  smartest  one  of  the  fam'ly.  But 
finally  a  doctor  teached  him  how  to  talk  and  then 
they  found  out  that  he  wan't  nuthin'  but  a  damned 
fool." 

The  profane  twist  of  the  old  man's  defense 
amused  Mrs.  Mayfield.  And  Jim  smiled.  It  was 
not  only  in  keeping  with  the  old  man's  half  innocent 
character —  it  was  the  honest  spurt  of  sinful  Adam, 
remaining  with  the  most  of  us — which  the  devout 
preacher  may  deplore  for  the  sake  of  example  and 
yet  inwardly  accept  because  he  is  human.  I  am 
told  that  there  are  languages  that  hold  no  profanity 
and  we  know  that  there  are  tongues  too  delicate 
for  philosophy  and  too  gentle  for  blank  verse. 

"Now  what  do  you  want  to  pester  a  body  thatter 
way  for?"  Margaret  rejoined,  thankful  that  Mrs. 
Mayfield  had  not  been  shocked.  "I  never  seed  a 
body  that  could  be  so  aggrivatin'.  Miz  Mayfield, 
don't  pay  no  'tendon  to  him  when  he  talks  thatter 
way,  fur  when  he  wants  to  he  kin  be  right  bright. 

"Oh,  I  understand  him,  Mrs.  Starbuck,"  and  then 
of  Jasper  she  inquired:  "How  far  is  it  to  the  post 
office?'* 

—  42  — 


GETTING  ACQUAINTED. 

"A  little  the  rise  of  three  mile.  As  soon  as  I  git 
this  gear  in  shape  I'll  have  Kintchin  hitch  up  and 
drive  a  passel  of  you  over  thar.  I  reckon  we've 
got  one  of  the  smartest  post-masters  in  the  country. 
I've  seed  him  rip  open  many  a  man's  letter  an'  read 
it  off  just  like  print.  Here,  Kintchin!  Kintchin! 
That  nigger's  asleep  somewhar.  One  of  these  days 
somebody  will  fill  him  so  full  of  lead  you  couldn't 
turn  him  over  with  a  hand  spike."  Kintchin  ap 
peared  at  the  door,  stretching  himself  and  rubbing 
his  eyes.  "What  have  you  been  doin'?" 

"Who,  me?" 

"Yes,  you." 

"Wall,  suh,  I  ain't  been  ersleep  ef  dat  whut  you 
means." 

"Then  why  didn't  you  answer  me?" 

"W'y,  suh,  I  had  my  min'  flung  down  on  er 
'ligious  subjeck  an'  it  wuz  all  I  coul'  do  ter  t'ar  it 
off." 

"Ah,  thought  I  hearn  suthin'  rip  like  a  piece  of 
tent  cloth,"  and  giving  Kintchin  the  harness  he  con 
tinued:    "Here,  hitch  up  old  Dick  and  drive  these 
folks  over  to  the  post  office." 
—  43  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Yas,  siih." 

"And  when  you  come  back  you  can  break  thj»t 
young  steer." 

"Yas,  suh,  break  de  steer/' 

"And  when  you  get  the  steer  broke,"  said  Mar 
garet,  "I  want  you  to  make  me  an  ash  hopper." 

"Yas'm,"  replied  the  old  negro,  looking  at  her 
and  then  at  Starbuck. 

"And  then,"  said  Jasper,  "I  want  you  to  hive  the 
bees." 

"And  then,"  Margaret  spoke  up,  "you  may  fix 
the  loom." 

"Yas'm,  fix  de  loom." 

"When  that  is  done,"  said  Starbuck,  "you  may 
rive  some  clap-boards  to  cover  the  spring  house." 

"Yas,  suh,  ter  kiver  de  spring  house;"  and 
scratching  his  head  he  stood  for  a  moment  as  if  in 
deep  thought.  "An'  look  yere,  Mr.  Starbuck,  while 
I'se  gone  to  the  pos'  office  don't  you  reckon  you  kin 
think  up  suthin'  fur  me  ter  do?" 

"How  willing  he  is  to  work,"  Mrs.  Mayfield  sym 
pathetically  remarked. 

Kintchin  ducked  his  head  at  her.  "W'y,  Lawd 
-  44  — 


GETTING  ACQUAINTED. 

bless  yo'  life,  honey,  I  doan  know  nuthin'  else.  One 
time  not  long  ergo  I  foun'  o'  er  mawnin'  dat  I  wuz 
monst'us  tired,  an'  den  I  come  ter  fin'  out  dat  I  been 
er  gittin'  up  an'  er  workin'  in  my  sleep.  Yas'm." 

He  looked  at  Jasper,  expecting  something,  and 
it  came:  "Was  that  the  time  they  found  the  ham 
under  yo'  bed?" 

"Mr.  Starbuck,  whut  you  all  de  time  come  er 
talkin'  datter  way  fur?  Ain't  dar  nuthin'  in  dis  life 
ter  talk  erbout  'cept  politics?  Doan  you  know  you 
got  er  soul  ter  save?  Doan  you  know  dat  de  Lawd 
frown  on  slander?  I  doan  care  fur  myse'f  but  I 
hate  ter  see  er  good  man  fling  erway  his  chances  o' 
de  salvation.  An'  suthin'  gwine  happen  ter  you  ef 
you  keeps  on  'sposin'  yo'se'f." 

Starbuck  good  naturedly  drove  him  out,  cluck 
ing  at  him  as  if  he  were  a  horse.  Lou  slowly  folded 
the  paper  which  she  had  been  gazing  at  during  all 
this  time  and  said:  "Oh,  you  must  let  me  keep 
this." 

"It  amounts  to  nothing,"  replied  Tom,  making  a 
pretense  of  taking  the  paper  but  permitting  her  to 
retain  it.     "I  will  write  you  something  prettier." 
—  45  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"No,  I  want  this,." 

"She  is  beginning  early  to  mistrust  promises," 
remarked  Mrs.  Mayfield. 

"Oh,  she  knows  the  world,"  said  Mrs.  Starbuck. 
"She  went  to  school  for  two  years  over  at  Dry  Fork. 
That's  where  she  Tarned  to  play  that  melogian." 

"Yes,"  Jasper  spoke  up,  "and  the  fust  time  I 
hearn  it  I  thought  a  tree  had  fell  on  one  of  the 
calves.  Why,  helloa,  mammy,  come  in.  Lookin' 
fur  suthin'?" 

"I  must  er  lef  my  old  pipe  yere  summers,"  said 
the  old  negro  woman,  coming  into  the  room. 

"Here  it  is,"  said  Jasper  taking  a  cob  pipe  from 
the  mantlepiece  and  giving  it  to  her.  "Won't  you 
sit  down,  mammy?  You  look  so  tired." 

"No,  Mars  Jasper,  I  hain't  hardly  got  time." 
She  looked  at  the  company,  bade  every  one  good 
morning,  with  a  heart-felt  "God  bless  you;"  and 
looking  at  Mrs.  Mayfield,  slowly  advanced  toward 
her,  gazing  at  her  hand.  "W'y,  honey,  I  neber 
seed  de  like  o'  putty  rings  you's  got  on.  Da's  like 
de  speret  o'  light  er  wrappin'  round  yo'  fingers." 

"Mammy,  they  are  but  glittering  memories." 
—  46  - 


GETTING  ACQUAINTED. 

"Yas'm,  da  do  shine  might'ly  ef  dat  whut  you 
means." 

Tom  and  Lou  were  going  out.  "Don't  stray  off," 
said  Mrs.  Mayfield.  "We  are  going  to  the  post 
office,  you  know." 

"Yes,  if  that  fetch-taked  nigger  ever  gits  the  hoss 
hitched  up,"  Margaret  spoke  up. 

Jasper  snatched  up  his  hat.  "Oh,  he'd  hitch  up 
a  hoss  to  the  fou'th  of  July  jest  about  in  time  to 
drive  up  to  the  front  door  of  Christmas.  I'll  go  and 
see  about  it  myse'f.  Slowest  nigger  I  ever  seed," 
and  muttering  he  went  out.  Old  mammy,  still 
looking  at  the  city  woman's  rings,  began  softly  to 
croon:  "I  neber  seed  er  po'  ole  nigger  dat  didn't 
like  rings.  I  had  er  whole  lot  o'  'em  once,  but  da 
turned  green,  an'  da'd  pizen  me  ef  I  teched  'em  wid 
my  mouf.  But  one  time  Mars  Jasper  gib  me  one  dat 
didn't  turn  green,  an'  I  lost  it.  You  allus  loses  de 
best,  you  know.  Honey,  Mars  Jasper  is  allus  doin' 
suthin'  fur  me.  I  nussed  him  w'en  he  wuz  er  chile 
an'  he  dun  paid  me  back  mo'  den  er  hunnud  times ; 
an'  w'en  I  got  ole  an'  wuz  down  wid  de  rheumatiz, 
an'  couldn't  sleep  in  de  night  w'en  de  lonesome  cow 
—  47  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

er  lowin'  on  de  hill-side,  he  sot  up  wid  me  an*  spell 
out  de  words  o'  de  Lawd,  fur  he  kain't  read  right 
quick.  He  couldn't  been  mo'  tender  wid  his  mud- 
der,  an'  I  gwine  ter  tell  de  Lawd  w'en  I  goes  home, 
an'  it  won't  be  long — no'm  it  won't.  An'  on  de  wall 
by  my  bed  I  dun  made  chalk  marks  o'  de  things  I 
gwine  tell  de  Lawd,  an'  dar  ain't  hardly  no  mo' 
room  fur  new  marks,  da  all  been  so  good  ter  me; 
but  I  gwine  make  one  fur  you,  honey,  caze  you 
looked  kind  at  me.  Yas'm,  I  is.  But  I  must  be 
gwine  .  Lawd  bless  you  all;  an'  you  too,  strange 
lady."  And  as  this  old  creature  walked  out  she  still 
muttered  blessings  upon  them;  this  endeared  old 
link,  tenderly  binding  some  of  us  to  one  of  the 
sweetest  memories  of  the  past.  She  is  passing  over 
the  threshold  into  the  "big  house"  of  eternity,  this 
mother  of  love  and  charity,  who  sang  the  little 
children  to  sleep,  whose  ebon  ringers  bound  the 
wounds  of  youth.  She  knew  enough  of  God  to  be 
all  love —  of  Christ  to  forgive  all  wrongs. 

"The  wagon's  ready,"  Jasper  called,  and  Mrs. 
Mayfield  turned  to  Jim.  "Won't  you  come  too?" 

He  scrambled  up,  as  if  stung  into  action,  grabbed 
—  48  — 


*.v" 

• 


GETTING  ACQUAINTED. 

his  hat,  went  boldly  close  to  her  and  said:  "If  I 
thought  yo'  wish  was  in  yo'  invitation,  Satan 
couldn't  hold  me  back,  and  the  Lord  wouldn't." 

"What  a  strange  compliment." 

"Ma'm,  I  don't  know  how  to  speak  compli 
ments." 

"Come  on,  please." 


—  49  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 
CHAPTER  IV. 

AT   THE    POST    OFFICE. 

Beneath  the  blooming  boughs  overhanging  the 
mountain  road  the  old  carryall  was  slowly  pulled 
along  by  a  horse  into  whose  joints  had  crept  the 
dreamy  laziness  of  early  summer.  Lou,  bound  about 
with  flowering  vines,  captive  May-queen  in  purple 
chains,  sat  on  the  rear  seat  with  Tom;  and  she  was 
shy  in  this  close  touch  with  the  mysterious  world 
from  afar  off;  and  her  timidity  made  him  timid,  this 
youth  whose  earliest  recollection  was  the  booming  of 
cannon,  as  he  played  upon  a  cavalryman's  blanket, 
waiting  for  his  father  to  return  from  the  charge. 
Motherless,  the  pet  of  the  battalion,  his  playthings 
the  accoutrements  of  war,  his  "stick  horse"  a  sabre, 
his  confidential  companion  a  brass  field  piece.  Old 
soldiers,  devoted  to  their  colonel,  carried  him  about 
on  their  shoulders,  and  handsome  women  made  him 
vain  and  bold  with  their  kisses;  but  in  the  presence 
of  this  mountain  girl  he  was  subdued.  Jim  and  Mrs. 
Mayfield  sat  together — that  is,  he  sat  out  on  the  end 
—  50  — 


AT  TEE  POST  OFFICE. 

•••v. 

of  a  board,  as  far  away  from  her  as  he  could  get, 
and  once  when  the  wheel  ran  over  a  stone  he  fell 
off. 

"Oh/'she  cried,  "you  must  be  hurt." 

He  got  up,  with  his  jack-o'-lantern  smile,  dusted 
himself  and  said: 

"I — I  vvould  fall  for  you  any  time,  ma'm." 

"But,"  she  laughed,  "I  didn't  want  you  to  fall." 

"Didn't  you?  Well,  I  beg  yo'  pardon,  I  thought 
you  did." 

Kintchin,  who  sat  in  front,  ducked  his  head  and 
chuckled. 

"Oh,  de  folks  up  yere  is  de  'commerdatinist  you 
eber  seed.  Da'll  stand  up  fur  you  ur  fall  down  fur 
you  ur  do  anythin'  you  pleases.  Sorry  I  come  off 
an'  furgot  suthin'.  Allus  de  way— man  furgits  whut 
he  needs  de  mos.'  r' 

"Did  you  forget  something,  Kintchin?"  Mrs. 
Mayfield  inquired. 

"Yas'm,  come  off  an'  furgot  twenty-fi'  cents  dat 

I  wanted  to  fetch  wid  me.     I  owes  er  quarter  ter  er 

crap-shootin'  nigger  ober  dar,  an*  when  I  kain't  pay 

him  he  gwine  retch  his  han'  up  atter  my  wool.     I 

—  51  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

doan  want  no  big  nigger  retchin'  atter  me,  caze  I 
ain't  right  well  dis  mawin'.  Co'se  ef  I  wuz  well 
I  wouldn'  mine  it  so  much,  but  ez  it  is,  it  bodders 
me  might'ly.  You  neber  had  no  trouble  wid  er 
crap-shootin'  nigger,  ef  you  had  you'd  be  mo'  con- 
sarned.  Anybody  gwine  gib  me  er  quarter.'* 

"I'll  give  you  a  testament,"  said  Jim,  looking  back 
and  smiling  at  Tom. 

"Testament!  Ointment  you  better  say,"  replied 
Kintchin.  "Testament  ain't  gwine  be  no  mo'  fo'ce 
wid  dem  niggers  den  de  Lawd's  pra'r  would  wid  er 
wild  haug.  Huh,  Fse  er  dreadin'  eber  step  o'  de 
way  ober  dar." 

"Here's  a  quarter,"  said  Mrs.  Mayfield,  handing 
him  a  piece  of  silver. 

"Thankee,  ma'm.  Oh,  you's  whut  da  calls  er  mis- 
siunary,  an'  I  gwine  he'p  ole  black  mammy  pray  fur 
you." 

"Oh,  how  beautiful — nature  sleeps  and  dreams  of 
paradise,"  mused  the  romantic  woman  and  the 
preacher  clasped  his  hands. 

"Down  off  there  is  where  the  foxes  live,"  said 
Lou.  "One  night  I  went  with  pa  to  run  them,  and 
—  62- 


AT  THE  POST  OFFICE. 

we  galloped  all  round  here,  and  when  we  got  home, 
just  about  day,  my  clothes  were  torn  nearly  all  to 
pieces;  but  it  was  such  fun;  and  when  old  Bob  got 
close  to  the  fox  and  bellowed,  it  seemed  like  he  was 
beatin'  his  paw  on  my  heart.  And  away  off  yander, 
the  hill-side  opened  and  music  poured  out,  and  fa 
ther  reached  over  and  put  his  hand  on  my  head 
and  we  listened." 

"It  is  music,"  said  Jim,  "but  the  horn  blowed  by 
old  Satan  may  be  made  outen  silver." 

"But,  Mr.  Reverend,"  Mrs.  Mayfield  spoke  up, 
"you  surely  don't  object  to  the  enjoyment  of  a  harm 
less  adventure." 

"No,  ma'm.  The  Lord  wants  us  to  enjoy  our 
selves,  but  we  should  not  jump  on  the  hoss  of  pleas 
ure  and  gallop  too  fur  away  from  the  gospel  of 
truth." 

Kintchin  ducked  his  woolly  head.  "Keep  on 
foolin'  roun'  an'  dis  yere  white  man  call  up  mourn 
ers,"  he  declared.  "De  gospel  it  all  right,  bof  in  de 
dark  an'  de  light  o'  de  moon;  but  you  keep  on  fool- 
in'  wid  it  an'  follerin'  it  an'  you  gwine  lose  yo'  min'. 
I  knows  whut  I  talkin'  erbout.  You  got  ter  come  ter 
-53  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

de  'elusion  dat  de  Lawd  knows  best  an'  not  pry  too 
fur  inter  his  erfairs.  De  Book  say  suthin'  'bout  eat 
all  you  want  an'  take  er  drink  once  in  er  while  fur 
ter-morrer  you  ain't  gwine  be  yere." 

"Does  the  Book  say  anything  about  shooting 
craps?"  Tom  inquired. 

"Now,  Mr.  Tom,  whut  put  dat  inter  yo'  head? 
Book  doan  come  out  p'intedly  an'  say  you  shan't." 

"They  cast  lots  for  His  garments,"  the  preacher 
spoke,  and  Kintchin  replied: 

"Oh,  w'en  you  fling  de  Book  down  on  me  too 
hard,  I  jest  hatter  squirm,  dat's  all.  Ef  I  had  ernud- 
der  quarter  I  could  open  up  er  'skussion  dat — " 

"You'll  not  get  it,"  said  Jim. 

"Dat  ends  it.  Oh,  I  likes  preachers — likes  ter  yere 
'em  talk,  but  I  ain't  nebber  got  no  money  outen  one 
yit.  Da  all  time  talk  erbout  gib  whut  you  got  ter 
de  po'  an'  foller  on,  an'  da  follers  all  right;  but  I 
ain't  seen  'em  gibbin'  nuthin'." 

"They  give  to  the  spirit,  Kintchin,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Mayfield. 

"Yas'm.  But  sometimes  I'd  leetle  ruther  da 
give  ter  de  pocket.  Howsomedever,  I  mustn't  go 
—  54  — 


AT  THE  POST  OFFICE. 

too  fur  wid  dis  man.  He's  er  preacher,  but  he  er 
Starbuck  an'  he  w'ar  me  out  ef  I  push  him  too  fur." 

"Now,  Kintchin,"  said  the  preacher,  "you  know 
you  couldn't  provoke  me  into  strikin'  you.  Don't 
you?" 

"Yas,  suh,  I  feels  it;  still  Fs  er  little  skeered  o' 
you.  An'  whut  you  gwine  gimme  caze  I  skeered? 
Ain't  it  wuth  er  quarter  ter  be  skeered  like  I  is? 
Huh?" 

"Here,"  replied  Jim,  giving  him  a  piece  of  money. 
"It's  worth  a  quarter  to  see  Satan  play  his  pranks." 

A  turn  in  the  road,  and  there  was  a  river,  narrow, 
deep  and  as  blue  as  the  sky.  Wild  spice  bushes, 
shedding  a  sweet  perfume,  grew  upon  the  steep 
banks,  and  far  below  they  saw  a  black  bass  leap  to 
gulp  a  mouthful  of  the  sun.  The  hills  stretched 
away,  purple,  blue,  green;  and  through  the  air  shot 
a  red  bird,  lightening  from  a  cloud  of  flowers.  A 
gaudy,  wild  dragon,  zouave-arrayed,  stood  guard 
over  a  violet  nodding  beside  a  rock,  and  the  milk- 
maidish  white  clover  trembled  in  fear  of  the  lust- 
looking  strawberry.  Bold  upon  a  high  rock,  with  a 
fish  in  his  claw,  sat  a  defiant  eagle,  and  straight 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

down  the  river  flew  a  sand-hill  crane,  like  a  frag 
ment  of  gray  mist. 

They  met  a  young  fellow,  carrying  a  tea-cup  in  his 
hand,  with  hair  that  looked  like  hackled  flax  and 
with  a  grin  that  invited  the  confidence  of  all  man 
kind.  It  was  Mose  Blake,  known  to  neighborhood 
fame  as  the  stutterer.  He  halted  and  attempted  to 
say  something,  but  Kintchin  drove  on,  muttering 
that  he  had  no  time  for  words  that  a  fellow  chewed 
all  to  pieces.  The  boy  tried  to  shout  his  defiance, 
but  "you  are  a — a — a  f — f — f — ,"  was  all  he  could 
utter  and  even  this  was  forestalled  by  Kintchin,  who 
called  back  at  him:  "Oh,  we  knows  all  erbout  dat." 

The  road  dipped  down,  turned,  and  they  drove 
upon  a  ferry-boat,  a  mere  platform  of  rude  plank 
and  propelled  by  two  gaunt  men.  On  the  other 
shore  they  drove  along  still  keeping  close  to  the 
river.  A  country  boy  hailed  them,  but  without  heed 
ing  him  Kintchin  remarked:  "Dat's  Laz  Spencer, 
an'  he  takin'  dat  meal  bag  home  somewhar  ter  borry 
suthin'  else.  Ef  he  wuz  ter  go  ter  heben  an'  foun' 
dat  he  couldn't  borry  some  angel's  harp,  he  wouldn't 

—  56  — 


AT  THE  POST  OFFICE. 

stay  dar.     I  'spize  ter  see  er  pusson  all  de  time 
wantin'  suthinV 

"You  don't  borrow,  do  you?"  Tom  asked,  and  he 
answered: 

"Who,  me?  No,  suh.  I  earns  all  I  gits — ef  not 
befo',  atterwards.  Jest  ez  sho  ez  er  pusson  gibs  me 
suthin'  I  gwine  earn  it." 

Turning  off  from  the  river  and  entering  upon  a 
piece  of  level  ground,  they  came  to  the  post-office, 
an  old  log  house  with  gable  end  toward  the  road. 
In  an  inclosure  a  number  of  tow-headed  boys  were 
trying  to  ride  a  calf.  In  the  road  a  child,  not  more 
than  able  to  toddle,  was  throwing  stones  at  a  blow 
ing  old  goose. 

Kintchin  tied  his  horse  to  a  "swinging  limb,"  and 
the  ladies  were  assisted  to  the  ground.  Tom  con 
ducted  them  into  the  post-office,  a  store  wherein  the 
merchant  had  for  sale  snuff,  red  calico,  brown  jeans, 
plug  tobacco,  cast  iron  plow  points,  nails  and  cove 
oysters.  The  postmaster  came  forward  dragging 
after  him  two  splint-bottom  chairs. 

"Set  down,"  he  said.  "Never  seed  you  befo',  but 
I'm  glad  to  see  you  now." 

—  57  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

Tom  inquired  if  there  were  anything  in  the  office 
for  Mrs.  Mary  Mayfield  or  himself,  calling  his  name; 
and  the  post-master  looked  at  him  closely  and 
asked:  "Any  kin  to  old  Zeb  Elliot  that  used  to 
sell  mink  skins?" 

"No,  I  have  no  relatives  in  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try." 

"Wall,  old  Zeb  was  a  good  deal  of  a  man." 

"That  may  be,  but  he  was  no  relation  of  mine." 

"Had  long  red  whiskers  and  his  hair  stood  up 
straight — seed  him  climb  a  tree  one  night  and 
shake  a  coon  out  as  slick  as  a  whistle.  Had  a  dog 
named  Tige — feller  pizened  him.  Where  you 
frum?" 

"Nashville.     I  wish  you'd  look—" 

"Yes,  that's  what  I'm  goin'  to  do.  And  ain't  this 
Jasper  Starbuck's  daughter?  I  thought  so,"  he 
added  when  Lou  nodded  at  him.  "I've  knowed  Jas 
per  a  long  time,  but  folks  don't  git  round  a  visitin' 
now  like  they  uster.  Never  seed  yo'  father  drunk 
in  my  life — swear  it's  a  fact;  never  did.  I'll  bet  he 
kin  whup  a  ground-hog  as  big  as  he  is.  And  I'll 
sw'ar,  ain't  this  little  Jimmie  Starbuck?" 
-58- 


AT  THE  POST  OFFICE. 

"My  name  is  Jim  and  I  am  a  Starbuck,"  the 
preacher  answered. 

"Thought  I  know'd  you.  Ah,  hah,  and  they  tell 
me  you  air  preachin'  the  gospel  now.  Which  one  o' 
the  gospels  air  you  preachin',  Luke  or  John?  Wall, 
no  difTunce,  either  of  'em  is  good  enough,  I  reckon. 
I  never  tried  to  preach." 

"I  wish  you'd  try  to  look  over  your  stock  of  mail 
matter,"  said  Tom. 

"I'll  do  that,  too.  What  was  the  other  name. 
Mayfield?  Well,  that's  a  familiar  name  to  me.  My 
grandmother  was  a  Mayfield — no,  Mayhew.  Putty 
nigh  the  same  anyhow.  You  air  expectin'  a  letter, 
I  reckon." 

"Yes,  if  you  please." 

"From  yo'  husband?  No,  you  ain't  married,  of 
co'se.  And  I  want  to  tell  you  that  you  may  have 
any  letter  in  this  shop,  don't  make  no  odds  who  it's 
writ  to  I'm  allus  glad  to  have  folks  come.  I  set 
here  day  after  day,  by  myself  a  good  deal  of  the 
time,  and  I  like  comp'ny,  too;  uster  be  a  mighty 
hand  to  go  round,  but  sorter  give  it  up  atter  I  got 
busy.  Now,  let  me  see  whar  I  put  them  letters." 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

He  scratched  his  head.  "I  had  'em  yistidy,  I'm  cer 
tain  of  that."  He  went  behind  his  counter,  shook  a 
barrel,  looked  into  it — looked  into  a  cracker  box, 
into  a  crock  jar,  and  brought  out  a  handful  of  letters. 
"Oh,  I  know'd  they  was  here  somewhar,"  he  said. 
"Elliott,  Mayfield,"  he  repeated,  looking  at  the.  let 
ters.  "Here's  one  for  Endiott — 'bout  as  near  as  I 
can  come  to  you,  young  feller.  Will  that  do?" 

"Of  course  not,"  Tom  answered.  "It  isn't  for 
me," 

"Near  enough,  ain't  it.  Oughtn't  to  blame  a  man 
when  he's  doin'  the  best  he  can.  I  can't  hit  at  you  at 
all,  Mrs.  Mayfield.  Ain't  nuthin'  here  that  sounds 
like  you." 

"Really,"  she  said,  "this  is  a  remarkable  post- 
office." 

"One  of  the  best,  ma'm,"  replied  the  post-master. 
"Come  in,  Squire,"  he  called  as  a  man,  leading  a 
hound,  appeared  at  the  door. 

"I  want  a  pint,"  said  the  Squire. 

"All  right — let  me  look  at  yo'  dog."  He  exam 
ined  the  hound's  teeth,  punched  him  in  the  side  to 

—  60  — 


AT  THE  POST  OFFICE. 

catch  his  tone,  pronounced  his  yelp  of  good  note, 
and  gave  the  Squire  a  pint  of  liquor. 

"About  as  peculiar  case  of  barter  as  I  ever  saw," 
said  Tom  when  the  Squire  withdrew  with  his  pur 
chase. 

"Yas,  mout  seem  so,  but  a  good  artickle  of  hound 
is  a  currency  at  this  sto'." 

"I  heard  that  I  might  find  peculiar  people  in  this 
part  of  the  country,"  said  Mrs.  Mayfield,  "and  I 
have  not  been  disappointed." 

The  store-keeper  smiled  upon  her,  playing  with 
the  hounds  ears.  "Oh,  we  never  disapp'int  folks," 
he  replied.  "But  we  ain't  peculiar.  Higher  up  the 
mountains  you  might  find  folks  that  are  right  queer 
in  their  ways.  Up  thar  they  ain't  got  no  money  at 
all  'cept  coon  skins.  Well,  do  you  want  to  buy 
anythin'?" 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Mayfield,  "not  to-day." 

"Got  some  right  good  snuff  here  if  you  want  it." 

"I  don't  use  snuff." 

"You  don't?    An'  come  round  talkin'  'bout  pecu 
liar  folks,  too?     Little  one,"  he  said  to  Lou,  "tell 
yo'  daddy  I  may  drap  over  to  see  him  as  soon  as 
—  61  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

my  present  rush  is  over.  Trade  is  suthin'  that  don't 
wait  fur  no  man,  Mrs.  Mayflower." 

"Auntie,  you'll  have  to  buy  something  after  that," 
said  Tom.  "I  don't  see  how  you  can  get  away  from 
it." 

"Then  I  will  show  you.  I  wish  you  would  tell 
Kintchin  that  we  are  ready  to  go." 


—  62- 


COULDN'T  QUARREL  IN  PEACE. 

CHAPTER  V. 
COULDN'T  QUARREL  IN  PEACE. 

When  Jim  and  Mrs.  Mayfield  were  near  the  door, 
just  before  starting  for  the  post-office,  she  with 
graceful  ceremony  and  he  with  the  simple  grin  of 
devout  worship,  Old  Jasper  had  stood  looking  at 
them,  with  an  expression  of  mock  seriousness;  and 
when  they  went  out,  Starbuck  slapped  his  leg  and 
snorted  with  laughter.  Margaret  reproved  him  with 
her  ever  industrious  eye. 

"Blamed  if  I  didn't  think  they  was  goin'  to  dance 
right  thar,"  said  the  old  man. 

"Jasper,  what  makes  you  wanter  talk  thatter 
way?" 

"Didn't  see  how  they  could  keep  from  it,  Mar 
garet.  Couldn't  see  no  way  to  hold  'em  back.  Jest 
as  ready  to  dance  as  the  b'ar  and  the  monkey  that 
the  feller  come  along  the  road  with  last  year,  meb- 
be  year  befo'  last.  I  tell  you,  Jim  ain't  been  a  read- 
in*  them  books  on  the  hill-top  fur  nothin'.  I  gad, 
every  time  he  looks  at  her  he  flips  a  star."  He 
—  63  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

walked  about  the  room,  shaking  his  head.  "The  po' 
feller's  hit.  I  gad,  when  you  flutter  fine  calico  the 
preachers  come  a  runnin'  with  the  rest  of  'em.  She's 
caught  him,  but  he'll  suffer  an'  say  nuthin'.  It's 
mighty  hard  work  to  wring  a  squeal  outen  a  Star- 
buck.  In  that  respeck  we  air  sorter  like  wild  hogs. 
I've  seed  a  dog  chaw  a  wild  pig  all  to  pieces  an'  he 
tuck  it  with  never  a  squeal — mout  have  grunted  a 
little,  but  he  didn't  squeal.  Puffeckly  nat'ral  to 
grunt  under  sich  circumstances,  ain't  it?" 

"Oh,  what  do  I  care  for  yo'  nonsense?" 

"Nonsense!  The  affairs  of  the  human  fam'ly  ain't 
nonsense,  is  they?  Heigho,  but  she's  a  mighty  good 
woman." 

"Of  course,"  said  Margaret,  crossing  the  room 
and  sitting  down  in  a  rocking-chair.  "Of  course. 
A  man  thinks  every  woman's  good — but  his  wife." 

"Had  to  break  out,  didn't  you?  Have  I  said  you 
wan't  good?" 

"Might  as  well  say  it  as  to  act  it." 

"How  am  I  actin'  it?" 

"By  not  lovin'  me,  that's  how." 

"Not  lovin'  you.    Have  you  got  any  postal-kyard 


COULDN'T  QUARREL  IN  PEACE. 

or  tillygram  to  that  effeck?  I  ain't  sent  you  no  sich 
news.  Look  here,  did  you  ever  notice  that  when  a 
woman's  daughter  gits  up  about  grown — when  the 
young  fellers  begin  to  cut  scollops  about  her — did 
you  ever  notice  that  about  that  time  she  begins  to 
complain  that  her  husband  don't  love  her?  Hah? 
Did  you?" 

*  "Oh,  it's  no  sich  of  a  thing,"  she  replied,  slowly 
rocking.  "You  know  you  don't  love  me  as  much  as 
you  did  yo'  fust  wife." 

For  a  time  the  old  fellow  gazed  at  her,  saying 
nothing;  and  then  came  slow, deep-rumbling  words: 
"Margaret,  air  you  jealous  o'  that  po'  little  grave 
down  yander  under  the  hill?  You  never  seed  her, 
the  mother  o'  my  two  sons  that  went  with  me  to 
pour  out  their  blood  fur  their  country;  and  when 
she  hearn  that  they  wan't  a  comin'  back,  she  pined 
away  and  died  and  was  buried  under  the  tree  whar 
we  seed  her  standin'  jest  befo'  we  went  down  be- 
yant  the  hill.  You  ain't  jealous  o'  that  weak  little 
woman,  air  you?" 

Slowly  rocking,  and  reflecting  for  a  few  moments, 

—  65  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

she  replied:  "Jasper,  it's  the  weak  little  women  that 
air  so  strong  with  the  men." 

"Yes,"  he  declared,  "and  it's  the  weak  little  wom 
en  that  have  sons  that  air  so  ready  to  march  to  the 
tap  of  the  drum.  But  I  give  you  and  our  daughter 
all  the  love  thar  is  in  this  old  heart  o'  mine,  and  that 
ought  to  be  enough." 

"But  you  don't  appear  to  want  to  talk  to  me," 
she  whimpered. 

"Talkin'  to  you  now,  ain't  I?" 

"Yes,"  she  admitted,  "sich  talk  as  it  is." 

"Well,  what  do  you  want  me  to  do?  Stand  like 
that  young  feller  Elliott  and  read  stuff  writ  in  short 
lines?" 

Margaret  flounced  out  of  the  chair.  "Oh,  I  never 
seed  a  man  that  could  be  as  big  a  fool  when  he 
tried.  I  do  know  that — "  Here  she  was  interrupted 
by  the  unheralded  entrance  of  Mose  Blake,  the  stut 
tering  boy  with  the  tea-cup.  He  nodded  at  Starbuck 
and  began  to  stutter.  "Mother  sent  me  atter — atter 
a  c — c — c — cup  o'  v — v — v — ' 

"How's  all  the  folks,  Mose?"  Margaret  broke  in. 

"  W — w — w — w — w — ' ' 


COULDN'T  QUARREL  IN  PEACE. 

"Glad  to  know  it,"  said  Starbuck.  Mose  looked 
at  him  with  a  dry  grin,  sat  down  in  the  rocking- 
chair  and  began  to  rock  himself. 

"What  did  yo'  mother  send  you  after,  Mose?" 
Margaret  inquired. 

"Cup  o'  v — v — v — v — v — " 

"Can't  you  write  it  down?"  Jasper  inquired. 

"Kik—kik—kik—ki—kan'— can't  write." 

"Don't  you  think  you  mout  go  off  somewhar  an* 
1'arn?" 

"Ain't  got— got  tity— tity— t t— time." 

"Wall,"  said  Jasper,  "it  appears  to  me  like  you've 
got  all  the  time  thar  is.  Wall.  All  right,  jest  set 
thar  till  it  comes  to  you  and  then  let  us  know  what 
you  want."  He  went  over  to  a  table  where  his  wife 
was  standing,  drew  out  a  stool,  sat  down  and  said  to 
her:  "So,  you  think  I  can  be  a  bigger  fool  when  I 
try  than—" 

"Hush,"  she  cautioned,  pointing  to  Mose,  "he's  a 
hearin'  you." 

Starbuck  slowly  turned  his  head,  looked  at  Mose 
and  then  said  to  his  wife :    "Wall,  whar's  the  differ 
ence,  he  can't  tell  about  it." 
-67- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Come  alter  a  c — c — c — cup  o'  v — v — v — v — " 

"Jest  hold  her  down,  Mose,"  Jasper  encourag 
ingly  remarked,  "and  mebby  she'll  come  right  side 
up  atter  a  while." 

"Jasper,"  said  Margaret,  "don't  distress  him." 

"I  ain't  distressin'  him  half  as  much  as  he  is  me. 
'Bout  ready  to  give  her  another  trial,  Mose?" 

"Want  a  cup  o'  vin — vin — vin — " 

"Oh,  you  air  gettin'  thar." 

"Cup  o'  v — v — vinegar." 

"Thank  goodness,"  Margaret  exclaimed. 

"Thar  you  go  distressin'  him,"  said  Jasper. 

Margaret  took  the  cup  and  went  into  the  kitchen 
and  Mose,  looking  at  Starbuck,  grinned  in  self-cele 
bration  of  his  victory. 

"Ain't  as  h — h — hot  as  it  was  when  it  was  h — h — 
h— hotter,  is  it?" 

"Come  to  think  of  it,  don't  believe  it  is." 

"M — m — m — might  r — r — r — rain,  soon/' 

"Yes,  and  it  looks  like  we  mout  have  snow  some 
time  next  winter." 

"Thank  y — y — y — you,"  said  Mose;  and  as  Mar 
garet  entered  and  handed  him  the  cup  of  vinegar  he 
—  68  — 


COULDN'T  QUARREL  IN  PEACE. 

thanked  her,  rewarded  her  with  a  grin,  and  departed. 
For  some  time  after  his  exit  nothing  was  said,  but 
finally  Margaret,  standing  near  the  window,  began 
to  look  for  the  ends  of  the  broken  thread  of  dis 
course. 

"Now,  let  me  see." 

To  help  her  out  Starbuck  volunteered  his  services. 
"We  had  got  to  whar  I  was  the  biggest  fool  when  I 
tried.  Don't  you  ricolleck?" 

"Oh,  you  want  to  git  back  to  whar  you  was  tryin' 
to  pick  a  quarrel  with  me,  do  you?" 

"No,  jest  thought  I'd  help  you  out." 

"It's  no  sich  of  a  thing.  You  know  you  don't  love 
me  an*  you  jest  want  a  chance  to  tell  me  so." 

"Did  it  ever  hit  you,  Margaret,  that  a  woman 
ought  to  put  herself  in  a  condition  to  be  loved? 
Scoldin'  don't  fetch  out  love  no  mo'  than  b'ilin'  water 
would  fetch  out  blossoms." 

"I  don't  scold,  and  I  don't  see  why  you  always 
keep  a  hintin'  that  I  do.  Scold!  I  never  scolded  in 
my  life.  You  know  you  git  mad  every  mornin'  at 
breakfust.  Man's  always  mad  till  he  gits  suthin'  to 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

eat.    Scold  indeed.    And  if  I  was  to  scold,  which  I 
don't,  I'd  have  a  cause." 

"Cause!  Did  you  ever  know  a  woman  to  look 
fur  a  cause  an'  not  find  one?  Jest  make  a  cause  of 
the  needle  in  the  hay-stack  an'  the  woman  will  find 
it.  And  I  want  to  tell  you  that  the  mo'  causes  a 
woman  has  the  mo'  disagreeable  she  is  ." 

"Oh,  it's  no  sich  of  a  thing.  A  woman  may 
slave  an'  slave  an'  never  go  off  the  place  and — " 

"Go  off  the  place!  Didn't  you  go  to  the  barbecue 
over  at  the  cross-roads  last  year?" 

"Last  year,"  she  repeated;  "it  was  year  befo'  last. 
Yes,  an'  look  how  you  acted  on  that  day — eat  till 
I  was  ashamed  o'  you — acted  like  you  never  got 
anythin'  at  home.  I  never  was  so  mortified  in  my 
life.  Saw  you  standin'  thar  with  the  leg  of  a  shote 
in  yo'  hand,  a  makin'  of  a  speech." 

"I  was  askin'  a  blessin'  over  the  meat.  I  admit 
that  I  was  hungry  on  that  occasion;  I'd  been  savin' 
myse'f  up.  Thar  ain't  no  use  in  goin'  to  a  barbecue 
unless  you  take  yo'  appetite  with  you." 

"But  thar's  no  sense  in  eatin'  till  everybody  talks 
about  it,  goodness  knows." 

-70- 


COULDN'T  QUARREL  IN  PEACE. 

"Who  talked  about  it? 

"Everybody,  that's  who.  Oh,  you  wouldn't  love 
me  if  I  was  a  dyin'." 

"I'd  much  ruther  have  you  HvinV 

"No  you  wouldn't.  If  I  was  a  dyin'  it  would  tickle 
you  mighty  nigh  to  death,  you — 

In  came  Laz  Spencer,  the  boy  with  the  meal-bag 
on  his  arm. 

"Glad  to  see  you,"  Starbuck  exclaimed,  catching 
him  by  the  hand;  and  Laz,  astonished  at  the  warmth 
of  the  welcome,  stood  mute,  as  if  expecting  for 
something  to  happen.  "You  got  here  jest  in  time, 
Laz." 

"Howdy,  Laz/'  Margaret  greeted  him,  smoothing 
her  countenance. 

"Wall,"  said  he,  "ain't  a  standin'  on  my  head," 
and  speaking  to  Jasper  he  added:  "Come  to  fetch 
yo'  meal-bag  home." 

"About  when  did  you  borry  it,  Laz,"  Jasper  in 
quired,  taking  the  bag  and  throwing  it  upon  the 
table. 

"Last  fall,  some  time." 

-71  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Well,  how  did  you  happen  to  fetch  it  back  so 
soon?" 

"Oh,  jest  got  to  thinkin'  about  it  last  month." 

"Well,  no  tellin'  what's  goin'  to  happen  when  a 
feller  gits  to  thinkin'.  What's  the  matter  with  yo' 
coat-tail?" 

"Was  a  settin'  on  a  stump,  drapped  off  to  sleep 
an'  the  calf  chawed  it." 

"I  do  wish  you  two  would  hush  yo'  foolishness," 
said  Margaret.  "How's  yo'  mother,  Laz." 

"Give  her  some  interestin'  news,  Laz,"  said  Star- 
buck.  "Tell  her  the  old  lady  ain't  expected  to  live." 

"Now  did  anybody  ever  hear  the  like  o'  that," 
Margaret  retorted.  "I  never  seed  sich  a  man." 

"Mother  ain't  so  powerful  well,"  said  Laz.  "She 
ain't  bed  sick,  but  she's  a  chillin'  a  good  deal.  Got 
the  shakes  when  she  went  down  to  the  creek  bot 
toms.  Can't  eat  nuthin'  but  spoon  vittuls." 

Margaret,  dismissing  the  visitor  from  further  at 
tention,  took  up  a  coffee-mill  and  sat  down  near  the 
fire-place.  Starbuck  asked  Laz  how  his  brother  Bill 
was  getting  along  since  the  fellow  cut  him  with  a 

—  72  — 


COULDN'T  QUARREL  IN  PEACE. 

knife,  an  affair  of  no  particular  consequence,  but 
serving  as  an  incidental  topic  for  thoughtless  talk. 

"Sorter  slow,"  said  Laz,  never  changing  a  line  of 
his  countenance.  His  face  was  as  fixed  as  a  mask, 
stupid  and  expressionless.  Whenever  he  smiled  it 
was  a  neighborhood  event. 

"Wall,  how  did  it  happen,  any  way?"  Starbuck  in 
quired,  biting  an  apple. 

"Wall,  Bill  he  war  settin'  thar  on  a  log,  lookin' 
out  over  the  new  ground,  not  a  thinkin'  about  bein' 
stobbed  nur  nuthin',  an'  this  feller  jest  slipped  up  an' 
stobbed  him." 

There  came  a  hoarse  cry  from  without. 

"Somebody's  a  hollerin'  helloa,"  said  Margaret, 
grinding  her  coffee  by  the  fire-place. 

Jasper  went  to  the  door. 

"Helloa,  that  you,  Gabe?" 

"What's  left  of  me,"  a  voice  replied. 

"Won't  you  light  an'  look  at  yo'  saddle?" 

"No,  don't  believe  I  got  time.  Was  goin'  down 
to  town  an'  didn't  know  but  you  mout  want  to  send 
fur  suthinV 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"No,  don't  believe  I'm  pinched  for  anythin'  at 
present." 

"You  might  tell  him  to  fetch  me  a  newspaper," 
said  Margaret. 

"Wife  'lows  you  might  fetch  her  a  newspaper, 
Gabe." 

"What  sorter  one?" 

"Oh,  one  o'  last  year  or  year  befo'  last." 

"Last  year,"  Margaret  repeated  contemptuously. 
"If  I  can't  get  this  month's  paper,  I  won't  have 
none." 

"Wife's  mighty  particular  about  her  paper,  Gabe," 
Jasper  shouted.  "Say,  fetch  her  one  o'  them  farmer 
papers  and  then  it  won't  make  no  diffunce  how  old 
it  is." 

"All  right.    Good-bye." 

"Good-bye,  Gabe,"  and  then  thinking  of  some 
thing  important  Starbuck  hastened  to  cry  out: 
"Say,  Gabe,  you  might  fetch  me  a  can  of  cove  oys 
ters  and  about  a  straw  hat  full  o'  crackers."  The 
last  request  was  shouted  through  the  window,  on 
the  sill  of  which  there  was  a  tin  cup  and  near  by,  in  a 
corner,  was  a  jug.  Taking  up  the  jug  and  the  cup 


COULDN'T  QUARREL  IN  PEACE. 

Starbuck,  approaching  his  visitor,  inquired:  "Have 
a  sneeze,  Laz?" 

The  young  fellow  did  not  look  round;  he  saw 
neither  the  jug  nor  the  cup,  but  he  knew  what  was 
meant,  and  with  a  slight  change  of  countenance  as 
he  arose,  he  replied:  "Ain't  snoze  ter-day." 

Jasper  gave  him  the  cup,  raised  the  jug  and  said : 
"Shout  when  you've  got  enough." 

Instantly  Laz  became  animated,  but  without  a 
change  of  countenance:  "Say,  ricolleck  that  feller 
lived  over  our  way,  had  a  white  hoss — one  day  come 
along  and—  The  cup  ran  over. 

"You  ain't  very  good  at  shoutin',  air  you?" 

"Whoa,"  said  Laz. 

Jasper  tilted  the  jug  to  his  own  lips  and  Laz 
drained  the  cup.  Starbuck  made  a  motion  with  the 
jug  toward  Margaret  and  she  shook  her  head  with 
a  shudder. 

"Tastes  like  the  milk  of  human  kindness,"  said 
Laz,  and  Jasper  replied: 

"Yes,  till  you  git  too  much  an'  then  it's  like  the 
juice  b'iled  outen  the  hoof  of  old  Satan.  Say,"  he 
added,  as  he  put  the  jug  in  its  accustomed  place, 
—  75  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"have  you  hearn  the  new  preacher  over  at  Eben- 
ezer?" 

"Went  over  to  hear,"  Laz  replied,  "but  a  passel  of 
us  fellers  got  to  swoppin'  saddles  down  at  the  spring 
an'  didn't.  They  say  Jim  Starbuck  kin  preach  all 
round  him." 

"Bet  Jim  kin  whup  him,"  said  Jasper. 

"Now,  Jasper,"  his  wife  spoke  up,  "why  do  you 
allus  want  to  talk  about  fightin',  an'  among  preach 
ers  at  that?" 

"I  ain't  allus  doin'  that,  Margaret.  I  happened  to 
mention  Jim  because  fightin'  was  about  the  hardest 
temptation  he  had  to  give  up,  bein'  a  Starbuck.  But, 
Laz,  the  preacher  over  thar  is  good." 

"How  do  you  know?"  Margaret  struck  in.  "You 
went  to  sleep." 

"Yes,"  said  Jasper,  "but  he  woke  me  up  a  time 
or  two,  and  it  takes  a  putty  good  one  to  do  that. 
The  last  feller  they  had  over  thar  didn't;  he  jest  let 
me  sleep  an'  dream — one  day  I  dreamed  I  was  a 
killin'  of  a  wild  cat  an'  I  come  mighty  nigh  a  break- 
in'  up  the  meetin'.  But  this  new  man  is  a  high  flyer, 
Laz.  He  chaws  flat  terbacker  an'  spits  right  out  over 
-76  — 


COULDN'T  QUARREL  IN  PEACE. 

the  dash-board."  He  took  out  his  watch,  shook  it, 
held  it  to  his  ear,  and  glancing  at  the  clock  on  the 
mantle-piece,  declared:  "Either  that  clock  is  a  liar 
or  this  here  watch  can't  tell  the  truth.  I  reckon  I 
have  mo'  trouble  with  time  than  anybody  in  the 
neighborhood.  None  of  my  time-pieces  can't  git 
along  with  one  another." 

"What  diffunce  do  that  make?"  Laz  drawled. 
"The  sun  rises  an'  sets  jest  like  thar  wan't  no 
watches  nur  clocks.  Wouldn't  make  no  diffunce  to 
me  ef  thar  wan't  none.  Shore  ter  git  a  feller  inter 
trouble  ef  he  pays  much  attention  to  'em.  The  only 
way  for  a  man  to  live  is  jest  to  let  time  take  care  of 
itse'f.  It  always  did  and  I  reckon  it  always  will." 
He  went  over  to  the  table,  took  up  the  bag  and 
looking  at  it  as  if  studying  a  problem,  remarked  to 
Jasper:  "I'd  like  to  borry  this  meal  bag  ag'in  ef 
you  ain't  got  no  particular  use  for  it." 

"All  right,  Laz,  but  I  mout  need  it  by  year  after 
next." 

"Ah,  hah.  Wall,  I'll  try  to  have  it  back  by  then." 
He  started  off  slowly  toward  the  door,  halted  and 
looked  about. 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

''Don't  see  nuthin'  else  you  want  to  borry,  do 
you,  Laz?" 

"Nuthin'  I  can  use.     Good-day." 

Margaret  stood  near  the  window,  meditating. 
"Now,  let  me  see." 

"Want  to  know  whar  we  was  when  he  broke  in?" 
Jasper  asked,  and  she  gave  him  a  pathetic  look. 

"I  wan't  a  thinkin'  about  that." 

"Glad  to  hear  it.  Look  here,  it's  a  gittin'  so  a 
man  can't  set  down  and  quarrel  with  his  wife  in 
peace.  We  air  gittin'  too  crowded  in  this  neighbor 
hood.  Man  moved  in  five  miles  from  here  day  befo' 
yistidy." 

"Then  let's  don't  quarrel,"  said  Margaret,  hold 
ing  out  her  hands. 

He  put  his  arms  about  her.  "No,  we  won't.  An' 
don't  be  jealous  of  that  po'  little  grave." 

"No,  Jasper,  for  she  was  the  mother  of  soldiers." 

Lije  Peters  came  in,  clearing  his  throat.  Star- 
buck  looked  round  at  him  and  said:  "An'  Satan 
come  also." 

"Starbuck,"  Peters  began,  "I  want  to  see  you  a 

minit,  by  yo'se'f." 

-78- 


COULDN'T  QUARREL  IN  PEACE. 

"I  don't  know  that  I've  got  anythin'  to  say  to  you, 
Lije,  but  that  door  thar  allus  stands  open,  and  I 
ain't  in  the  habit  of  orderin'  folks  out  of  my  house. 
Margaret,  will  you  please  go  in  thar?"  he  added, 
motioning  with  his  head. 

"But  you  won't  have  no  trouble,  will  you,  Jas 
per?" 

"Trouble  mostly  comes  to  them  that  looks  for  it. 
I  ain't  lookin'." 

Margaret  went  to  the  door,  halted,  looked  back 
and  then  passed  into  the  adjoining  room.  Starbuck 
sat  on  a  corner  of  the  table.  Peters  stood  looking  at 
him.  Peters  was  much  the  larger  man,  and  lifting 
at  a  handspike,  in  the  clearing  at  a  log-rolling,  would 
have  been  stronger;  but  the  bully,  the  half-coward, 
in  combat,  is  rarely  as  strong  as  the  brave  man.  The 
blood  of  courage  case-hardens  a  muscle. 

They  looked  at  each  other,  these  two  men  whose 
relationship,  never  agreeable,  was  nearing  a  crisis. 
Starbuck's  voice  was  never  softer  than  when  he 
said:  "Won't  you  sit  down,  Lije?" 

"Hardly  wuth  while.    Did  the  folks  tell  you  that  I 
was  over  here  earlier  in  the  day?" 
—  79  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Nobody  said  anythin'  about  it,  Lije.  Couldn't 
have  been  very  important — what  you  said  to  'em  on 
that  occasion." 

Peters  cleared  his  rasp-like  throat.  "Mo'  impor 
tant  than  some  folks  mout  think." 

"Some  folks  don't  think,"  Starbuck  replied. 

"And  then  ag'in,"  said  Peters,  "thar  air  others 
that  does." 

"Ah,  hah,  an'  ef  you  air  one  of  'em,  out  with  what 
you  air  thinkin'.  Up  in  the  hills  one  time  a  dog 
bit  an  old  feller,  and  his  son's  cotch  the  dog  an' 
put  a  rope  around  his  neck  to  hang  him.  But  they 
kept  on  a  standin'  thar  till  finally  the  old  feller 
Mow:  'Say,  boys,  when  you've  got  to  hang  a  dog, 
do  it  as  quick  as  you  kin.  Do  you  see  whut  I  am 
a  drivin'  at?" 

Peters  gave  a  gurgling,  mirthless  chuckle;  and 
loose-jointed,  shifted  his  weight  from  one  leg  to  the 
other.  "Well,  nobody  ain't  never  accused  me  of 
not  understandin'  things — yit." 

"Mebbe  it's  because  nobody  ain't  never  paid  you 
that  much  attention." 

"Oh,  you  know  how  to  talk.  Ain't  nobody  ever 
—  80  — 


COULDN'T  QUARREL  IN  PEACE. 

denied  that,  but  talk  that  don't  lead  up  don't  amount 
to  nuthin'.  Starbuck,  our  families  wan't  right  good 
friends  in  the  past." 

"Wan't  in  love/'  Old  Jasper  agreed,  and  Peters 
coughed. 

"Yes,  that's  a  fact.  An'  I've  got  an  old-fashioned, 
single-barrel,  cap-and-ball  pistol  that  uster  belong 
to  a  Starbuck." 

"Yes,  and  a  way  back  yander  it  killed  a  Peters, 
I've  hearn." 

"Yes,  Starbuck,  with  a  three-inch  slug.  But  that's 
nuther  here  nur  thar,  jest  now.  I'm  willin'  to  fur- 
git  the  past." 

Starbuck  gave  him  a  knife-thrust  glance,  and  re 
plied  :  "When  a  Peters  says  he  is,  it's  ten  to  one  he 
ain't." 

"You  air  still  talkin'  fust  rate.  But  come  to  think 
of  it,  you  an'  me  ain't  been  very  much  at  outs." 

"That's  so,  Lije.  I've  slept  all  night  many  a 
time  without  dreamin'  of  you." 

"Yes.  But  I  reckon  I've  been  doin'  a  leetle  mo' 
dreamin'  than  you  have.  Yo'  daughter — " 

"Only  a  dream  so  fur  as  you  air  consarned." 
—  81  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  she  won't  marry  me  if  you 
tell  her  to?" 

Starbuck  left  the  table  upon  which  he  had  been 
sitting,  and  moved  over  closer  to  his  visitor.  "Look 
here:  you  know  she  can't  love  you,  an'  don't  you 
want  her  because  you  think  I've  got  a  little  money? 
Hah,  ain't  that  it?"  And  slowly  the  old  man  went 
over  to  the  fire-place,  took  down  his  pipe,  filled  it 
and  stood  twisting  a  piece  of  paper.  "When  you 
git  right  down  to  it,  Lije,  ain't  that  the  reason — 
money?" 

"Well,"  said  Peters,  shifting  about,  "if  thar  is 
money,  I  reckon  I  know  how  you  come  by  some  of 
it."  He  put  his  foot  on  a  chair  and  pulled  at  his 
beard.  "Yes,  I  reckon  I  know  how  you  got  a  good 
deal  of  it.  Starbuck,  I  know  an  old  feller  about  yo' 
size  an'  with  gray  ha'r  that  has  made  a  good  deal  o' 
licker  when  the  sun  wan't  shinin'.  And  that  fetches 
me  down  to  the  p'int.  I  have  applied  fur  appoint 
ment  as  Deputy  United  States  Marshal.  Do  you 
know  what  that  means — if  I  git  it?" 

Starbuck  leaned  over  and  thrust  the  piece  of  pa- 

—  8*2  — 


COULDN'T  QUARREL  IN  PEACE. 

per  into  the  fire,  turned  about  with  it  blazing  in  his 

hand  and  applied  it  to  his  pipe. 

"Do  you  know  what  that  means,  Starbuck?" 
The  old  man  puffed  at  his  pipe,  drew  the  blazing 

paper  through  his  hand,  put  out  the  fire,  removed 

his  pipe,  studied  a  moment  and  said:     "Yes.     It 

means  that  I  may  have  to  kill  you." 


—  83  — 


THE  STARBUCKS, 

CHAPTER  VI. 
HADN'T  LISTENED. 

Not  another  word  was  spoken,  and  Peters  went 
out,  turning  with  a  sullen  look  as  he  reached  the 
road.  For  a  moment  he  stood  there  and  then 
skulked  on  away,  met  a  dog  in  the  road  and  kicked 
at  him.  When  Margaret  re-entered  the  room  Jas 
per  was  walking  up  and  down  with  his  hands  be 
hind  him.  The  old  man  began  to  tell  a  story:  "Fel 
ler  down  in  the  bottoms  owned  a  calf  that  had  wool 
on  him  like  a  sheep;  uster  ter  shear  him  every 
spring,  and  one  time  he — " 

"Jasper,  didn't  Peters  say  he  was  a  comin*  after 
you?" 

"Margaret,  is  it  possible  that  youVe  been  listenin' 
to  two  men  talkin'  business?  Now,  business  is  a 
sort  of  a  sacred  thing.  A  feller  in  the  Bible  says, 
'I'd  like  might'ly  to  go  to  yo'  little  dinner,  but  I've 
got  to  break  a  yoke  of  steers  an'  you  must  'skuze 
me.'  So,  Margaret,  you  must  never  interfere  with 
bisiness." 

—  84  — 


HADN'T  LISTENED. 

"But  did'nt  you  say  suthin'  about  that  you  might 
have  to  kill  him?  Didn't  you?" 

"Huh.  We  must  have  been  talkin'  about  a  sheep 
that  broke  his  leg.  When  a  sheep  breaks  his  leg, 
you  know,  he's  about  gone.  Mighty  hard  thing  to 
cure  a  sheep,  makes  no  diffunce  what's  the  matter 
with  him.  Feller  over  near  Smithfield  had  a  sheep 
once  that — " 

"Didn't  he  say  he  was  a  goin'  to  be  app'inted 
deputy  marshal?" 

"Who,  the  sheep?  Now,  I  don't  believe  a  sheep 
would  make  a  very  good  deputy  marshal.  Strikes 
me  that  the  wolf  would  be  a  trifle  better." 

"Jasper,  I  didn't  say  a  word  about  a  sheep,  and 
you  know  it." 

"That's  a  fact.  I  was  the  one  that  was  a  talkin' 
about  a  sheep.  I  know'd  it  was  one  of  us,  but  I 
sorter  forgot  which  one." 

"Didn't  he  say  that  you  made  a  good  deal  o'  licker 
when  the  sun  wan't  shinin'?  Didn't  he?" 

"Margaret,  ef  you  keep  on,  I'll  be  fo'ced  to  be 
lieve  you  have  been  listenin';  an'  I'd  hate  to  think 
that.  Thar  ain't  nuthin'  much  wus  than  listenin'  to 
—  85  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

other  folks  when  they  talk  business.  Now  the  fust 
woman  on  the  earth  listened  when  her  husband  he 
was  a  talkin'  to  an  angel  that  was  out  in  the  garden 
a  sunnin'  hisse'f,  and  they  called  her  a  Eve  drapper." 

"Wall,  you  wan't  a  talkin'  to  no  angel,  I'll  tell  you 
that." 

"Talkin'  to  one  now,  ain't  I?" 

"Jasper,  I  didn't  come  in  here  to  be  made  fun  of. 
I'd  rather  quarrel  than  to  be  made  fun  of." 

"I  don't  know  but  that's  a  fact." 

"Now  why  don't  you  tell  me  all  about  it?" 

"I  don't  see  the  use  in  my  repeatin'  suthin'  you've 
already  hearn." 

"Already  hearn?  I  ain't  hearn  a  word,  and  you 
know  it.  But  suppose  he  do  git  the  app'intment — 
won't  it  mean  trouble?" 

"Wall,  I  don't  know  but  it  will.  They  do  say 
that  it's  a  sorter  troublesome  job.  Know'd  a  feller 
that  was  app'inted  once,  and  he  was  shot  between 
the  eyes — puttiest  shot  you  ever  saw.  Man  said, 
'You  couldn't  do  that  ag'in  in  ten  years/  and  putty 
soon  thar  come  along  another  deputy,  an'  blamed  if 
he  didn't  do  it  ag'in." 


HADN'T  LISTENED. 

"I  wish  you  wouldn't  pester  me  so — when  I've 
already  got  trouble  on  my  mind." 

"What's  troublin'  you,  Margaret?" 

"Why,  dinner's  about  ready  to  take  up,  and  them 
folks  ain't  come  back.  Why,  I  never  did  see  Lou 
as  skittish  as  she  is  now.  I  reckon  it's  because  he's 
the  son  of  a  United  States  jedge." 

"Oh,  you've  found  out  all  about  him,  have  you? 
Wall,  he's  sorter  skittish,  too.  And  when  his  aunt 
talks  it  puts  me  in  mind  of  a  bird  a  singin'  up  sum 
mers  among  the  green  leaves." 

"Oh,  any  woman  could  talk  thatter  way  if  you'd 
put  fine  clothes  on  her.  Trouble  is  when  a  woman 
ain't  dressed  fitten  to  kill,  nobody  won't  listen  to 
her.  Common  calico  can't  talk  any  better  than  that 
Mose  Blake;  but  silk — law  me!  Sings  like  a  bird 
up  among  the  green  leaves.  I  despise  to  hear  a 
man  go  on  thatter  way — jest  as  if  a  woman  ain't  re 
spectable  unless  she  covers  herself  with  finery.  But 
I  want  to  tell  you  that  Lou  can  talk  with  the  rest  of 
'em  when  she  wants  to — and  so  can  I,  for  that  mat 
ter." 

"Oh,  you  can  talk,  Margaret— thar  ain't  no  doubt 
—  87  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

about  that.  Well,  I'll  go  out  now  and  see  if  the 
hogs  air  gittin'  along  all  right,  and  when  dinner's 
ready  jest  blow  yo'  ho'n." 

Off  from  the  road,  not  far  from  the  house,  a  gulch 
ran  zig-zag  up  among  the  rugged  hills.  It  was  no 
mere  ragged  and  unsightly  drain  for  water  from  the 
higher  land.  Flower-brightened  and  vine-hung,  it 
was  deliciously  cool,  and  gorgeous  at  every  turn. 
At  the  bottom  babbled  a  rivulet,  a  bit  of  summer 
sky  melted  and  poured  among  the  green-tipped 
rocks.  Blooming  shrubs  in  the  giant's  garden,  the 
saplings  seemed;  and  hither  came  the  birds  to  make 
their  nests  and  to  nod  with  half-shut  eyes  in  the 
drowsy  afternoon.  But  after  passing  through  this 
elbow  corridor,  there  were  bare  rocks,  standing  bold 
in  the  sun  or  bleak  in  the  wind,  and  here  was  a  log 
hut  almost  hidden  by  bushes.  It  was  called  the  mill, 
and  corn  was  ground  there,  but  the  meal  was  boiled 
in  a  great  iron  kettle.  It  was  Old  Jasper's  distillery. 
After  leaving  the  house  he  went  up  to  this  place,  and 
in  front  of  his  picturesque  though  illegitimate  estab 
lishment,  he  sat  down  upon  a  stone  to  muse  over  his 
coming  danger. 


HADN'T  LISTENED. 

In  Jasper  Starbuck  there  was  a  force  which, 
directed  by  education,  would  have  made  of  him  a 
leader  of  men.  Once  a  neighbor  had  threatened  to 
report  him  to  the  government,  and  In  the  night 
Jasper  went  to  the  house  of  his  enemy,  called  him 
to  the  door,  showed  him  a  rope,  and  without  saying 
a  word  went  away.  The  neighbor  knew  what  the 
rope  meant.  Years  before  a  miscreant  who  had  as 
saulted  a  woman,  was  seized  by  Starbuck,  thrown 
upon  his  back,  tied  hand  and  foot,  and  hanged  to  a 
tree;  and  it  was  only  the  timely  arrival  of  officers  of 
the  law  that  saved  him  for  the  deliberations  of  the 
established  gallows.  But  with  all  his  quickness  to 
act  he  was  sometimes  made  slow  by  a  touch  of  sen 
timent,  and  thus  it  was  that  he  permitted  Peters  to 
bully  him.  Between  the  two  families  there  had 
ever  existed  bad  blood,  and  some  of  it  had  been 
spilled.  In  the  neighborhood  it  was  a  standing  pre 
diction  that  Jasper  would  one  day  cut  the  throat  of 
the  blustering  Lije,  and  the  old  fellow,  especially 
as  time  began  to  whiten  his  hair,  constantly  mused 
to  himself:  "I  don't  want  'em  to  throw  it  up  to  my 
girl  that  she  is  the  daughter  of  a  butcher,  but  if  the 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

time  must  come — "  Here  he  always  broke  off,  sum 
moning  his  humor  with  the  whistle  of  a  droll  tune. 
"Thar  may  be  some  way  to  weather  it  out,"  he  now 
mused  as  he  sat  upon  the  stone,  "I  have  been  in 
many  a  close  place  and  I  always  weathered  it  out." 

Suddenly  he  looked  up,  attracted  by  the  bleating 
of  a  lamb ;  and  up  higher  among  the  crags  he  went, 
found  the  little  thing  caught  between  two  rocks, 
almost  starved.  "You  don't  belong  to  me,"  he  said, 
taking  the  lamb  in  his  arms,  "but  yo'  life  belongs  to 
you  an'  in  the  sight  o'  the  Lord  mebby  it  amounts 
to  as  much  as  mine."  He  took  the  lamb  down  to 
the  house,  gave  it  milk,  and  then  took  it  back  upon 
the  hill-side,  and,  putting  it  on  the  ground,  said: 
''Thar,  I  reckon  you'd  better  run  along  home.  Yo' 
mammy  mout  be  distressed  about  you." 

Upon  returning  to  the  house  he  found  that  his 
visitors  had  come  back  from  the  post-office.  Jim 
was  gazing  at  Mrs.  Mayfield,  Tom  was  shyly  striv 
ing  to  dispel  Lou's  shyness,  Mrs.  Mayfield  was 
talking  romance. 

"Oh,  I  could  not  have  believed  that  such  a  place 
existed,"  she  said  to  Starbuck.  "I  was  warned  not 
—  90  — 


HADN'T  LISTENED. 

to  come  here,  that  the  people  were  ungentle  and 
that  the  report  of  the  gun  was  oftener  heard  than  the 
strains  of  the  song;  but  I  find  that  your  life  here  is 
almost  uneventful  music." 

"I  don't  know  what  sort  of  music  that  is,  ma'm, 
but  if  you  say  so,  I'd  be  willin'  to  bet  on  it.  Would 
n't  you,  Jim?" 

"I  don't  bet,  Uncle  Jasper, — but — but  if  she 
wanted  me  to  I  would." 

''Of  course  you  would,  or  any  other  preacher,  if 
he's  a  man." 

Mrs.  Mayfield  was  looking  at  Jim  and  he  sat 
illumined  beneath  her  gaze.  "Your  compliments 
are  all  so  new  and  strange  to  me,"  she  said.  "And 
in  them  I  can  find  no  flattery." 

"Ma'm,  I  have  never  tried  to  flatter  any  one. 
Judas  was  a  flatterer." 

"That's  right,  ma'm,"  the  old  man  declared, 
laughing  and  slapping  his  leg;  "an*  I'd  ruther  a  man 
would  tell  me  a  flat-footed  lie  than  to  pour  molasses 
on  me.  Young  feller,"  he  asked  of  Tom,  "did  you 
like  yo'  ride?" 

—  91  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Charmed  with  it,  I  assure  you.  Auntie  called  it  a 
continuous  panorama." 

"Wall,  I  never  thought  about  it  in  that  way,  but 
I  reckon  that's  about  what  it  is." 

"Oh,  such  visions  are  not  to  be  forgotten,"  Mrs. 
Mayfield  spoke  up,  and  at  the  sound  of  her  voice 
Jim  dodged.  "And  such  air,  Mr.  Starbuck — ethe 
real  liquor  of  the  gods." 

At  the  word  liquor  Jasper's  jaw  dropped  with  a 
"hah?" 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "wine  from  the  press  of  Para 
dise.  How  free  from  the  taint  of  the  world  was 
every  shrub  and  flower!  I  thought  that  a  poet  had 
laid  him  down  and  dreamed,  and  awaking  and  steal 
ing  away,  had  left  his  dream  behind." 

"That  so?  And  right  up  on  the  hill  from  whar 
you  crossed  the  river  thar  lives  the  old  feller  they 
tell  the  tale  about.  Many  years  ago  when  thar 
come  along  a  government  surveyor,  a  changein'  the 
line  between  North  Caroliny  an'  Tennessee,  he 
dragged  his  chain  through  the  old  feller's  house, 
putting  one  room  in  one  state  an'  lettin'  the  other 
room  stay  in  the  state  it  was.  'Wall/  says  the  old 
—  92  — 


HADN'T  LISTENED. 

feller,  beginnin'  to  move  his  bed  over  into  the  tuther 
room,  'reckon  I'll  sleep  over  here  as  North  Caro- 
liny  ain't  very  healthy  nohow,'  an'  he  did  till  years 
atterwards  another  chain  proved  that  he  was  mo' 
than  fifty  miles  over  in  Tennessee  an'  then  his  health 
improved  might'ly.  I'm  glad  you  like  our  part  o' 
the  country,  ma'm."- 

"Anyone  to  know  the  dark  side  of  life  as  I  do,  Mr. 
Starbuck,  must  revel  here.  There  are  no  sneers 
among  the  trees,  and  the  tears  that  fall  from  the 
flowers  are  tears  of  joy  and  not  of  sorrow.  It  does 
not  seem  that  the  great  explorer,  Trouble,  has  ever 
penetrated  this  region." 

"Ma'm,"  said  the  old  man,  standing  in  front  of  her 
with  his  hands  behind  him,  "no  matter  whar  we  go 
trouble  is  thar  jest  in  advance  of  us.  Trouble  was 
in  the  garden  of  Eden,  waitin'  for  man.  The  coward 
may  say  that  it  come  with  the  woman,  but  it  was 
thar  in  the  shape  of  a  snake  befo'  man  trod  the 
path.  A  house  may  be  away  off  among  the  hills; 
it  may  be  kivered  all  over  with  vines  an'  the  flowers 
may  sweeten  the  roof,  and  yit  inside  thar  may  be  a 
heart  that  is  a  smotherin'." 

—  93  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"It  is  mighty  warm  in  here,"  said  Margaret,  enter 
ing  the  room.    "Come  in  to  dinner.'* 

Jim,  in  a  constant  tremble,  as  if  he  expected  some 
dire  accident  to  befall  him,  sat  beside  Mrs.  May- 
field.  Once  he  dropped  a  dish,  and  later  leaning 
back  in  his  chair,  the  hind  legs  of  which  were  too 
short,  tipped  over  and  came  near  upsetting  the 
table.  Tom  and  Lou  tittered;  Jasper  roared  till  the 
tears  ran  down  his  brown  cheeks;  Margaret  re 
proved  him  and  all  was  in  confusion  till  Mrs.  May- 
field's  gentle  words  pattered  musically  among  them 
like  rain  in  the  dust.  She  did  not  take  notice  of  the 
ludicrous  mishap,  and  when  Jim  had  scrambled  to 
his  feet  and  was  standing  there  ridiculous  with  a  dry 
grin,  she  said  to  him:  "I  know  you  must  be  fond 
of  books,  and  when  I  return  home  I  will  send  you 
some — books  that  I  have  read  and  marked  when 
the  hours  were  long." 

The  preacher  recovered  himself.  "Ma'm,"  said 
he,  "in  a  book  yo'  pencil  would  make  a  high  price 
mark,  and  from  one  man  that  I  know  of  there  could 
be  no  purchase." 

"I  gad,"  snorted  Old  Jasper,  "dinged  if  he  didn't 

git  right  up  and  stand  higher  than  he  was  befo'." 
94 


HADN'T  LISTENED. 

"Jasper,"  Margaret  protested,  "I  wouldn't  make 
fun  of  the  way  a  man  stands.  It  don't  sound  right." 

"My  dear,"  Mrs.  Mayfield  replied  to  Margaret, 
motherly,  though  young,  "he  paid  Mr.  Reverend  a 
pretty  compliment." 

"Now  did  he?"  Margaret  rejoined.  "Wall,  if  he 
did  I'm  mighty  glad  of  it,  but  the  truth  is,  Miz  May- 
field,  Jasper  is  so  full  of  his  pranks  you  never  can 
tell  how  to  take  him.  Lou,  why  don't  you  pass  the 
butter  to  Mr.  Elliott;  and  the  bread?  Can't  you 
see  nothin'  at  all?  I  hope  you  will  excuse  her,  Mr. 
Elliott,  fur  she  sometimes  furgits  though  she  did  go 
to  school  for  two  years  over  at  Dry  Fork." 

Tom  begged  her  not  to  worry  about  him.  He 
was  nearing  that  stage  when  physical  appetite  is 
forgotten,  when  our  entire  nature,  faults,  virtues, 
all  littlenesses  and  greater  qualities,  are  thrown  into 
a  heap  to  feed  the  bonfire  of  love.  An  old  man  may 
love  like  a  fool,  but  the  boy  loves  like  a  hero.  The 
old  man  who  believes  that  he  is  loved  by  a  girl  is  a 
reveler  in  the  debauchery  of  his  own  vanity.  With  an 
egotism  unknown  to  youth,  he  believes.  The  "sweet 
thing"  tells  him  with  an  air  of  wisdom  that  she  could 
—  95  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

not  love  youth,  that  it  is  but  an  animated  folly,  and  he 
believes  her.  But  the  boy  is  uncertain  and  doubts 
himself.  His  love,  instead  of  inspiring  confidence 
within  his  own  breast,  inhabits  his  heart  with  the 
ghost  of  fear.  The  old  man  talks  platitudes  and 
knows  that  he  is  convincing.  The  boy  stammers  his 
devotion  and  feels  that  he  has  failed. 

"You  ain't  eatin'  a  thing,"  said  Lou,  and  this  bold 
boy  in  the  city,  but  timid  now,  dropped  a  piece  of 
bread,  burnt  himself  with  coffee  and  spluttered  that 
never  in  all  his  life  had  he  eaten  so  much.  A  bird 
lighted  on  the  window  sill,  and  whispering  to  Lou, 
he  said  that  it  had  come  to  hear  her  talk,  and  to 
carry  her  music  to  the  other  birds  to  make  them 
envious;  and  she  spoke  no  word,  but  her  cheeks  re 
plied  to  him.  The  old  man  was  musing  and  saw 
nothing,  but  Margaret  heard  the  words  and  saw  the 
blush,  and  sitting  back  in  her  chair  she  compressed 
her  lips  and  fanned  herself  in  satisfied  determination. 
Jim  had  become  calm,  though  watchful  and  still  on 
the  dodge.  Sometimes  he  started  as  if  a  bold 
thought  with  a  sudden  knock  upon  the  prison  door 
demanded  liberation,  but  frightened  at  the  sound  of 


HADN'T  LISTENED. 

the  struggling  voice  within  he  would  seem  to  clap 
his  hand  over  the  key-hole,  that  no  accent  might 
escape.  The  old  man  was  aware  of  these  trials  and 
they  amused  him  and  often  he  would  duck  his  head 
and  laugh  over  his  plate.  Margaret  would  clear  her 
throat  at  him. 

"Now,  Jasper,  what  on  top  of  yeth  has  tickled 
you  so?  A  body  to  see  you  would  think  that  thar 
wan't  nuthin'  serious  nowhar.  Oh,  I  like  to  see  a 
man  enjoy  hisse'f,  but — " 

"But  you  don't,"  Jasper  filled  in,  winking  at  Jim, 
who  dodged  as  if  an  acorn  had  been  flipped  at  his 
eye.  "Ma'm,"  he  added,  "blamed  if  I  believe  a 
woman  ever  has  a  right  good  laugh  after  she's  past 
thirty.  About  that  time  nature  turns  down  the  lamp 
for  her  and  she  begins  to  see  shadows.  If  she  does 
laugh  much  atter  this  it  is  at  an  enemy.  She  won't 
laugh  with  you — she  laughs  at  you.  You've  got  to 
look  funny  to  her — you've  got  to  have  on  suthin' 
that  looks  odd." 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  so,  Mr.  Starbuck,"  Mrs.  May- 
field  replied.    "It  has  often  been  denied,  but  a  wom 
an  has  the  true  sense  of  humor,  but — " 
-97- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Humor!"  exclaimed  the  old  fellow.  "Why,  she's 
got  mo'  than  a  day  in  April." 

"You  misunderstand  me.  I  mean  that  she  has  a 
true  sense  of  fun.  Being  more  sensitive  than  man, 
some  things  that  a  man  wouldn't  notice,  strike  her 
as  ridiculous.  To  say  that  she  has  no  fun  would  be 
to  rob  her  of  sorrow,  for  the  keenest  sorrow  comes 
after  we  have  had  our  fun." 

"Ma'm,  you  air  settin'  in  a  boat,  paddlin'  at  ease 
and  I  am  a  rollin'  up  my  britches  higher  an'  higher, 
a  tryin'  to  wade  atter  you;  but  you  air  a  gittin'  out 
whar  it  is  too  deep  fur  me  to  foller  you." 

"A  compliment  charmingly  expressed,  Mr.  Star- 
buck.  But  if  I  row  away  from  you,  it  was  you  who 
placed  me  in  the  boat." 

"Ma'm,  I  allus  thought  it  would  be  hard  to  talk  to 
an  educated  woman.  I  'lowed  she  would  talk  a  fin 
ery  that  I  couldn't  understand,  but  you  sorter  make 
me  change  my  mind." 

"Jasper,  you  do  fret  a  body  so,"  Margaret  put  in. 
"You  would  lead  us  to  think  you  never  met  a  woman 
befo'.  Why,  thar  air  lots  o'  women  up  here — can't 
talk  silk  and  braid  and  plush,  but  they  know  how  to 
say  what  they  mean." 


HADN'T  LISTENED. 

Mrs.  Mayfield  bowed  to  her.  "I  quite  agree  with 
you,  Mrs.  Starbuck.  Women  everywhere  are  pretty 
much  the  same." 

"So  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,  Miz  Mayfield," 
Margaret  replied.  "It  ain't  often  that  anybody 
agrees  with  me — Jasper  never  do.  If  I'd  say  a 
crow's  black,  he'd  'low  it  was  white." 

"Yes,"  drawled  the  old  man,  "ef  you  was  to  say 
so;  but  you  never  would  say  a  crow  was  black. 
You'd  say  he  was  yaller.  No,  I  don't  allers  dispute 
what  you  say.  Tuther  day  when  I  flung  a  rock  at 
a  steer,  it  struck  a  tree,  bounced  back  and  hit  me 
and  you  said,  Thar,  you've  hurt  yo'se'f/  and  I  didn't 
dispute  it.  Jest  give  me  the  truth  and  you  won't 
here  no  complaint.  Am  I  right,  Jim?" 

Jim  did  not  relish  his  position  as  "prover."  The 
umpire  of  household  argument  "hath  but  a  losing 
office."  In  the  opinion  of  one  side  or  the  other  his 
decision  is  unjust.  "You  are  nearly  always  right 
when  you  think  you  are,  Uncle  Jasper,  and  you  don't 
often  think  you  are  right  unless  you  are;  and  I  can 
say  the  same  of  Aunt  Margaret." 

"Oh,  I  tell  you,"  the  old  man  declared,  shaking 
-  99- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

his  head,  "Jim  will  keep  but  of  trouble  as  long  as  he 
kin;  an'  I  want  to  say  he  is  givin'  me  a  mighty 
useful  lesson  right  along  now  about  this  time." 

"Gracious!    Look  thar!"  Margaret  exclaimed. 

"Hold  on!"  Jasper  commanded,  "don't  nobody 
move.  Keep  right  still  and  don't  say  a  word." 

In  the  door  stood  a  dog,  gazing  with  glassy  stare. 
Any  one  could  see  that  is  was  mad.  A  tiger  leaping 
forth  from  a  jungle  and  standing  with  his  eyes 
ablaze,  must  be  a  terrible  sight.  But  the  tiger,  red 
tongue  out,  crouching,  eyes  like  fire,  could  not  in 
spire  more  of  terror  than  the  dead  eye  of  a  mad 
dog.  We  know  that  its  tooth,  its  claw,  its  very 
foam  means  death,  lingering,  horrible. 

"Don't  move,"  commanded  Jasper,  slowly  getting 
up  from  the  table.  There  was  no  weapon  within 
reach.  "I'll  have  to  choke  him,"  said  the  old  man. 
"If  any  of  you  moves  a  muscle  I'll  hold  you  respon 
sible."  Gazing  into  the  eyes  of  the  dog,  he  slowly 
moved  toward  the  door.  Then,  making  a  sudden 
motion  forward,  he  sprang  to  one  side;  and  the 
dog  was  in  the  air,  and  when  he  came  down  the  old 
man  was  upon  his  back,  with  hands  grasped  around 
—  100  — 


HADN'T  fJSTENED:,  :    :  :•/,'••,  |;; 

his  throat.  The  women  shrieked.  Jim  and  Tom 
sprang  forward.  "Look  out,  boys,  don't  let  him 
scratch  you.  Here,  Jim,  grab  his  hind  legs.  Mr. 
Elliott,  fetch  that  handspike  from  over  thar  in  the 
corner." 

Jim  seized  the  dog's  legs  and  Tom  brought  the 
big  stick.  "Shall  I  mash  his  head  with  it,  sir?" 

"No.  Put  it  across  his  neck  and  then  I'll  b'ar 
down  on  one  end  an'  you  on  the  other  an*  with  a 
twist  Jim  kin  break  his  neck.  Thar,  we  air  gittin' 
him."  At  the  proper  moment  Jim  gave  the  dog 
an  upward  twist  and  there  was  a  snap.  They  heard 
his  neck  break. 

"It's  all  right,"  said  Old  Jasper.  "Why,  you 
women  folks  mustn't  take  on  now.  Thar  are  two 
times  when  you  mustn't  take  on — when  thar's  dan 
ger  and  when  thar  ain't." 

"I  know  he's  pizened!"  Margaret  cried. 

"Well,  now,  don't  bet  no  money  on  that  fur  you'll 
lose  it.  He  didn't  tech  me." 

"Let  us  thank  the  Lord,"  said  Jim. 

"All  right,"  Jasper  replied;  "but  thar  ain't  no 
hurry;  the  dog's  dead." 

-101  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 
CHAPTER  VII. 

NOT  SO  FAR  OUT  OF  THE  WORLD. 

Men  with  guns  came  down  the  road,  shouting 
"mad  dog."  The  cry  was  taken  up  and  it  echoed 
among  the  hills.  In  barbaric  Europe,  when  every 
village  was  a  principality  unto  itself,  the  cry  at  mid 
night,  summoning  men  from  their  beds  to  butcher 
or  be  butchered,  could  not  have  been  more  start 
ling  than  the  noon-tide  cry  of  "mad  dog"  in  rural 
Tennessee.  Mothers  seized  their  children,  fathers 
caught  up  guns  and  axes.  The  cross-roads  mer 
chant  slammed  his  door  and  locked  it.  Oxen,  catch 
ing  the  alarm,  bellowed  in  the  fields. 

Starbuck  went  out  into  the  road  to  meet  the  men. 
"Say,"  he  said,  in  answer  to  their  shout,  "if  you  air 
lookin'  for  a  mad  dog  I  kin  let  you  have  one  cheap. 
He's  round  thar." 

The  dog  was  dragged  away  and  the  community 

returned  to  the  allegiance  which  it  owed  to  quietude 

and  laziness;  the  shiftless  lout  loitered  along  the 

road,  and  the  old  woman,  on  the  gray  mare,  followed 

-102- 


NOT  SO  FAR  OUT  OF  THE  WORLD. 

by  the  fuzzy  mule  colt,  carried  down  to  the  "com 
mercial  emporium,"  "a  settin'  o'  goose  aigs"  to  be 
swopped  for  a  handful  of  coffee  and  a  lump  of 
brown  sugar. 

"Ma'm,"  said  Starbuck  to  Mrs.  Mayfield,  as  he 
went  back  into  the  house,  "you  see  that  we  don't  live 
so  fur  outen  the  world  atter  all.  Of  co'se  thar  air 
places  that  have  got  mo'  1'arnin'  than  we  have,  but 
we  kin  skeer  up  a  mad  dog  an'  git  rid  o'  him  as 
quick  as  the  best  of  'em.  An'  I  reckon  by  this  time 
you  find  that  our  affairs  ain't  so  uneventful  as  you 
put  it.  Young  feller,"  he  went  on,  speaking  to  Tom, 
"I  like  the  way  you  acted  under  fire.  Thar  was  a 
time  when  I  believed  that  a  feller  with  store  clothes 
on  was  easy  skeered,  and  I  laughed  when  I  seed  'em 
j'inin'  the  army — 'lowed  they  would  w'ar  out  in  a 
day  or  two ;  but  they  outmarched  us  fellers  that  fol- 
lered  the  plow  an'  when  the  time  come  they  tuck 
their  red  medicine  an'  never  whimpered.  Ricollcck 
one  little  chap  that  didn't  look  like  he  was  strong 
enough  to  pull  up  a  handful  o'  white  clover — 
snatched  up  a  flag,  butted  his  way  to  the  front  and 
put  his  colors  on  the  breastworks  o'  the  inimy." 
—  103- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"I  thank  you,"  Tom  replied.  "But  you  don't 
seem  to  be  astonished  that  the  preacher  wasn't 
scared." 

"Who,  Jim?    Oh,  no.    Jim's  a  Starbuck." 

"Don't  make  me  out  any  worse  than  I  naturally 
am,  Uncle  Jasper,"  said  Jim,  smiling  in  that  mild 
consciousness  of  humor  sometimes  necessary  and 
always  appropriate  to  the  pulpit. 

Mrs.  Mayfield  smiled  upon  him,  and  bade  him 
come  with  her  to  the  place  where  the  short  shade  of 
noon-time  was  napping  on  the  hill-top.  He  clutched 
his  hat  and  followed  her  and  old  Jasper  snorted. 
"Follers  her  like  a  pet  lamb,"  said  the  old  man  to 
his  wife  when  Tom  and  Lou  also  had  strolled  off.  "I 
mean  Jim  do.  But  to  tell  you  the  truth  she'll  never 
marry  him;  don't  know  that  he  wants  her,  you  un 
derstand,  but  if  he  do  he's  in  a  bad  fix.  She's  good 
and  as  putty  as  a  red-bird,  but  I  don't  reckon  that 
she'd  like  to  be  the  wife  of  a  mountain  preacher. 
And  come  to  think  about  it,  I  don't  see  why  a  wom 
an  would  want  to  be  the  wife  of  any  preacher — 
much.  Not  that  the  preacher  wouldn't  be  good  to 
her,  but  because  she'd  be  a  settin'  herse'f  up  as  a 
—  104  — 


NOT  SO  FAR  OUT  OF  THE  WORLD. 

mark  fur  all  the  other  women  in  the  neighborhood. 
Ef  a  preacher's  wife  laugh  they  say  she  ain't  a  takin' 
no  intrust  in  church  work,  an'  ef  she  is  sorrowful 
they  say  it's  all  put  on." 

"Jasper,  you  don't  know  what  you're  a  talkin' 
about,  but  you  air  puffeckly  nat'ral  as  long  as  you're 
a  sayin'  suthin'  ag'in  women.  You  don't  understand 
'em  at  all." 

"And  ef  I  did  I'd  be  smarter  than  old  Solomon. 
He  had  fo'  or  five  hundred  of  'em  about  him  and 
he  didn't  understand  even  the  most  foolish  one  of 
'em.  How  air  you  goin'  to  understand  a  critter  that 
don't  understand  herse'f?  But  I  tell  you  this  here 
Miz  Mayfield  is  smart — talks  like  a  new  book  that's 
got  picturs  in  it." 

"Oh!    Then  I  reckon  I  can't  talk  at  all." 

"Have  you  hearn  anybody  hint  that  you  can't 
talk?  Did  you  ever  notice  that  when  a  man  begins 
to  talk  about  a  woman,  makes  no  diffunce  who,  his 
wife  puts  it  up  that  he's  a  talkin'  about  her?  Did 
you?" 

"No,  nor  you  nuther.  Gracious  above! — book 
with  picturs  in  it!  But  if  Jim  wants  to  marry  her, 
—  105  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

why  don't  he  say  so?  What  do  he  want  allus  to 
be  a  steppin'  round  her  skirts  like  a  frost-bit 
chicken?" 

"Wall,  he  ain't  had  time  to  ax  her  yit.  It  took 
the  gospel  mo'  than  a  thousand  years  to  reach  Amer 
ica,  an*  we  oughtn't  to  expect  preachers  to  be  in  a 
rush." 

She  scowled  at  him  and  he  went  away,  laughing, 
and  she  stood  in  the  door,  shading  her  eyes  with  her 
hand,  watching  Tom  and  Lou  as  slowly  they  walked 
down  the  road.  Over  to  the  right,  in  the  dazzle  of 
the  sun,  Jim  and  Mrs.  Mayfield  were  climbing  a 
hill;  and  reaching  the  top,  she  sat  down  on  a  rock 
and  bade  him  sit  near  her,  but  he  shook  his  head 
and  said  that  he  preferred  to  stand  where  he  was, 
and  then,  realizing  that  his  remark  was  abrupt,  sat 
down  by  her  and  was  silent.  At  her  feet  the  violets 
were  blooming.  There  came  a  breeze,  and  the  blos 
som  of  a  poplar  sapling  brushed  her  face  and  shed 
its  perfume  in  her  hair. 

"In  the  city  all  is  struggle  and  plot,"  she  said,  and 
musing  for  a  time  in  silence,  she  continued:    "But 
here  all  seems  to  be  innocence  and  beauty." 
—  106  — 


NOT  SO  FAR  OUT  OF  THE  WORLD. 

"Not  all  innocence,  ma'm,"  the  preacher  replied. 
"The  poisonous  insect  sometimes  lives  where  the 
air  is  sweet.  There  is  no  land  that  is  not  in  need  of 
the  doctrine  of  gentleness.  To  the  lovely  eye  almost 
all  things  may  look  lovely— 

"Thank  you,"  she  broke  in. 

"Oh,  not  at  all,"  he  replied,  unable  to  remember 
his  ease  of  a  moment  ago.  "The  fact  is  I  don't  be 
lieve  we  are  goin'  to  have  any  rain  for  some  time 
yet.  Needin'  it  a  little,  now,  too." 

"You  were  talking  in  a  different  strain  just  now 
and  I  interrupted  you.  I  am  sorry.  Let  me  lead 
you  back." 

"I  don't  hardly  know  where  I  was,  ma'm.  The 
fact  is,  I'm  always  about  half  lost  when  I'm  with 
you." 

"Mr.  Reverend,  don't  embarrass  me." 

"Embarrass  you?  Ma'm,  I  haven't  had  a  fight  in 
a  good  while,  but  if  a  feller  was  to  come  along  and 
embarrass  yon,  why  he'd  soon  have  reason  to  think 
that  scarlet  fever  had  broke  out  in  the  neighbor 
hood." 

"Now,  please  don't  talk  that  way.  Let  us  get 
—  107  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

back  to  where  we  were.  You  were  saying  that  all 
lands  were  in  need  of  the  doctrine  of  gentleness.  I 
suppose  it  is  true,  but  this  land  needs  only  the  doc 
trine  while  there  are  others  that  are  in  need  of  the 
lash — I  might  say,  the  sword.  I  am  not  as  high  in 
the  social  world  as  you  may  suppose,  but  what  I 
know  of  society  leads  me  to  believe  that  we  polish 
a  barbarism  and  call  it  a  brilliant  grace.  Politeness 
is  charming  to  look  at  and  to  hear,  but  it  is  the  art 
of  telling  and  acting  a  lie.  Among  these  hills  we 
hear  a  laugh  and  we  know  that  some  one  is  amused. 
In  society  we  see  a  smile  and  we  feel  that  some  one 
is  a  hypocrite." 

"I  hope  it  ain't  that  bad,  ma'm." 

"But  it  is  that  bad." 

"When  Uncle  Jasper  asked  you  if  yo'  husband 
was  dead,  you  said  worse  than  that — divorced.  Was 
he  very  mean  to  you,  ma'am?" 

"He  was  a  brute,  Mr.  Reverend." 

"Did  anybody  knock  him  down  for  you?" 

"Oh,  no." 

"Is  he  livin'?" 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so." 

—  108  — 


NOT  SO  FAR  OUT  OF  THE  WORLD. 

"Do  you  want  him  knocked  down?" 

"Why,  Mr.  Reverend!  Just  now  you  were  talking 
of  the  doctrine  of  gentleness,  and  now  you  speak  of 
knocking  some  one  down.  How  can  you  be  so 
changeable." 

"I'm  not  changeable,  rr^rn.  The  doctrine  of  gen 
tleness  don't  apply  to  a  snake,  and  if  that  man  didn't 
treat  you  right  he  is  a  snake.  And  I'm  a  preacher; 
I  go  out  among  them  that  needs  prayer  and  I  pray; 
in  the  night  when  it  seems  that  everybody  else  in 
the  world  is  asleep,  I  have  gone  out  and  knelt  down 
in  the  dirt  and  prayed  that  the  pain  and  the  bitter 
ness  might  be  taken  from  the  troubled  hearts  of  my 
neighbors.  I've  gone  to  see  many  a  young  feller 
and  begged  him  to  give  up  fightin' — I've  done  all 
that,  but  if  you  was  to  tell  me  where  I  could  find 
that  man — man  that  was  a  brute  to  you,  I'd  hunt 
him  and  with  my  fist  I  would  mash  the  teeth  out  of 
his  mouth.  Where  does  he  live?" 

"We  must  not  think  of  him,  Mr.  Reverend.  And 
besides,  when  I  speak  of  him,  how  do  you  know  that 
I  tell  the  truth?" 

_109  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Ma'm,  if  a  man  should  inspire  you  with  a  lie,  it 
would  be  proof  enough  that  he  is  a  brute." 

She  clapped  her  hands  and  laughed.  "Oh,  Trou 
badour,  recite  your  soul  to  me!" 

"What  did  you  say,  ma'm?" 

"Oh,  nothing."  She  pointed  and  Jim  saw  Tom 
and  Lou  enter  the  vine-hung  gulch  leading  to  the 
place  where  corn  had  been  ground  at  night. 


—  110  — 


THE  SPIRIT  THAT  PLAYED  WITH  HER. 
CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  SPIRIT  THAT  PLAYED  WITH  HER. 

'This  looks  like  the  scenery  in  a  theatre,"  said 
Tom,  as  slowly  they  walked  up  the  gulch.  She 
asked  him  what  he  meant  and  he  explained  as  best 
he  could  the  nature  of  a  play-house,  where  to  sweet 
music  and  amid  flowers  the  hero  told  the  heroine 
that  he  would  die  for  her.  She  replied  that  it  must 
be  pretty,  but  that  a  book  which  she  had  read  told 
her  that  it  was  wrong  to  go  to  such  a  place.  In  this 
book  there  was  a  girl,  and  one  night  she  went  with 
a  young  man  to  a  theatre  and  when  she  came  back 
her  mother  was  dead.  Tom  suggested  that  possibly 
the  old  lady  might  have  died  anyway,  but  Lou  shook 
her  wavy  hair  till  all  sorts  of  witcheries  fell  out  of  it. 

"No,  she  died  because  the  girl  went,  and  I  have 
thought  I'd  be  afraid  to  go  as  long  as  my  mother 
was  alive." 

He  helped  her  across  the  rivulet,  though  it  was 
not  more  than  a  foot  wide  at  this  place,  and  a  little 
further  on,  helped  her  across  again  when  there  was 
—  111  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

no  necessity  for  it.  "It  didn't  seem  to  have  any  in 
fluence  on  the  old  man,  did  it?"  he  remarked. 

'The  girl  goin'  to  the  theatre?  Oh,  no;  it  takes 
more  than  that  to  kill  a  man.  Cousin  Jim  says 
when  he  went  down  to  Memphis  while  the  yeller 
fever  was  there,  he  saw  the  theatre  house.  He 
went  inside,  and  the  seats  were  red  and  soft — softer 
than  the  seats  in  a  church,  but  there  wasn't  anybody 
there  for  all  the  people  that  went  there  were  dead 
with  the  fever.  But  I  have  often  wondered  if  there 
was  so  much  music  and  so  many  flowers  how  it 
could  be  so  bad.  They  say  that  the  angels  have 
harps  and  that  in  heaven  there  is  music,  but  I  have 
n't  heard  that  there  is  any  music  at  the  other  place. 
Oh,  did  you  see  that  bird  almost  light  on  me?" 

'Thought  you  were  a  flower,"  Tom  replied,  help 
ing  her  across  the  rivulet  again. 

"Oh,  it  didn't.  What  makes  you  wanter  talk  that 
way  for?  Look,  here  is  where  I  used  to  make  my 
play-house,  and  here  are  pieces  of  the  broken  dishes 
yet,  and  that  broken  bottle  was  my  bureau.  Wait  a 
minute  and  let  me  think.  There  was  a  little  boy 
played  with  me  and  his  name  was  Bud — not  a  sure 
—  112  — 


THE  SPIRIT  THAT  PLAYED  WITH  HER. 

enough  little  boy,  but  one  that  I  pretended  like;  and 
I  could  hear  him  talk  and  he'd  say  the  prettiest 
things.  He  lived  up  there  under  that  big  rock  and 
would  always  come  when  I  called  him,  but  one  time 
a  woman  come  along  and  she  heard  me  talkin'  to 
him  and  she  couldn't  see  him  with  her  sort  of  eyes; 
and  she  went  down  to  the  house  and  told  mother 
that  I  must  be  crazy,  and  after  this  Bud  wouldn't 
come  when  I  called  him.  That  was  a  long  time 
ago — a  year  and  a  half  befo'  year  befo'  last.  We 
will  go  on  now." 

When  they  came  to  the  log  hut,  Tom  cried  out: 
"Oh,  here  is  another  play-house.    Is  it  yours?" 
"No,  this  is  where  they  grind  corn." 
He  looked  in  at  the  low  door  and  marveled  at  the 
strangeness  of  the  place,  and  after  a  long  silence 

she  asked  him  what  he  was  thinking  about  and  he 
replied: 

"About  that  little  boy.  He  must  have  been 
happy." 

"Yes,  till  that  hateful  woman  came  along  and 
killed  him.  Wasn't  she  mean?  I  wonder  if  hun 
dreds  of  spirits  haven't  been  killed  that  way.  How 
-  113  - 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

beautiful  everything  is  sometimes  when  we  shut  our 
eyes.  It  is  then  that  we  see  spirits,  but  I  was  sick 
once  and  the  spirits  all  got  to  be  old  and  wrinkled 
and  they'd  come  up  and  grin  at  me;  and  after  that 
for  a  long  time  I  was  afraid  to  see  things  with  my 
eyes  shut.  Isn't  it  nice  to  be  as  brave  as  you  are?" 

He  looked  at  her  and  his  eyes  were  aglow  with 
softened  fire,  and  his  hand  was  near  her  own,  resting 
on  the  log  door-way,  but  he  was  not  brave  now  for 
he  trembled  and  when  he  spoke  his  voice  wavered. 
"Don't  mock  me  by  calling  me  brave.  There  never 
was  a  bigger  coward." 

"Why,  you  are  trembling  now.  Is  it  because  I 
told  you  of  the  spirits?  But  you  ain't  a  coward.  My 
father  says  you  are  brave  and  he  knows,  for  you 
wan't  afraid  of  that  mad  dog,  and  there's  nothin'  as 
bad  as  that.  Oh,  down  yonder  where  the  branch  is 
bigger  there  is  a  water  fall ;  and  after  a  rain  it  roars 
and  I  used  to  go  there  with  little  Bud  and  we  called 
it  a  scolding  giant.  Shall  we  go  down  there?" 

"Yes,  but  you  mustn't — mustn't  think  of  that  boy 
Bud  so  much." 

"Oh,  he  was  only  a  spirit." 
—  1U  — 


THE  SPIRIT  THAT  PLAYED  WITH  HER. 

"Yes,  but  so  is  everything  that  is  anything.  Take 
the  spirit  away  and  we'd  all  be  cattle.  And  I  know 
exactly  what  species  of  cattle  I'd  be — I'd  be  a  calf — 
just  a  red  calf  with  horns  about  an  inch  long,  and 
in  nosing  around  I'd  get  a  basket  on  my  head,  be 
frightened  and  make  myself  ridiculous.  I  never 
knew  it  before,  but  I  know  now  that  I'd  be  a  calf." 

"Oh,  no  you  wouldn't,  no  such  of  a  thing.  What 
makes  you  talk  about  yourself  that  way?  Come  on, 
now." 

Over  a  bluff  of  rock  fifty  feet  high  the  rivulet 
poured  and  in  the  spray  they  saw  a  rainbow.  Down 
below  where  they  stood  ferns  were  rank  and  the 
rocks  were  soft  with  moss.  Here  they  sat  and  chat 
ted  of  nothing  but  themselves,  he  discovering  faults 
in  himself  and  she  denying  them,  calling  him  pret 
tily  to  task  for  his  slander,  and  thrilled  him  from  one 
indecision  to  another.  The  sun,  emblazoning  for  a 
moment  a  distant  mountain  top,  purpled  the  lower 
world  and  then  all  was  in  shade.  For  a  long  time 
they  had  been  silent  and  when  she  spoke  he  started 
out  of  his  revery  and  rubbed  his  eyes  as  if  he  had 
been  asleep;  but  he  had  not,  for  as  a  spirit,  a  little 
—  115  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

boy  Bud,  he  had  played  with  her  in  the  gulch,  com 
ing  out  from  beneath  the  rock  when  she  called  him. 

"Let  us  go  back  to  the  house,"  she  said.  "They 
will  wonder  what  has  become  of  us." 

Jim  and  Mrs.  Mayfield  were  coming  down  the 
hill.  The  preacher,  too,  had  for  the  most  part  been 
silent,  though  not  in  reverie,  but  in  a  constant  strug 
gle.  Once  he  said  to  her:  "Ma'm,  I  can't  get  it  out 
of  my  head  that  you  are  makin'  fun  of  me." 

"I  make  fun  of  you,  Mr.  Reverend?  I  admit  that 
in  the  past  my  heart  was  gayer  than  wise,  but  there 
never  was  a  time  when  I  could  have  made  fun  of 
you." 

Slowly  they  walked  down  the  hill  and  he  pondered 
over  what  she  had  said,  but  a  simple  heart  is  often 
a  suspicious  heart;  rustic  faith  is  afraid  of  itself,  and 
he  did  not  believe  her.  He  was  not  wise  enough  to 
see  that  in  her  eye  he  was  a  moral  Hercules.  He 
did  not  know  that  in  his  great  strength,  in  his  very 
awkwardness,  there  was  a  fascination  for  this  woman 
who  had  drunk  wine  from  a  golden  goblet  and  found 
it  bitter.  On  every  creed  there  are  dark  spots,  and 
in  his  devotion  to  his  calling  he  was  afraid  that  she 
—  116  — 


THE  SPIRIT  THAT  PLAYED  WITH  HER. 

had  come  to  him  as  a  temptation,  to  lead  him  away 
from  the  work  of  saving  souls.  Sometimes  he 
caught  himself  foolishly  wishing  that  suddenly  she 
might  develop  into  a  man,  the  evil  one  himself,  that 
he  might  defy  him;  and  then  the  softness  of  her 
words  would  bring  shame  upon  him  and  he  would 
mutter  imprecations  against  himself. 

"The  sun  is  no  longer  shining  upon  it,  but  in  my 
mind  that  hill-top  will  always  glow,"  she  said  when 
they  had  reached  the  road.  "It  must  ever  remain  a 
gold-tipped  promontory  of  the  past." 

"Ma'm,  I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 


—  117- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 
CHAPTER  IX. 

AT  DRY  FORK. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  immediately  after 
breakfast  Jasper  announced  that  he  was  going  "to 
haul  a  passel  of  them"  over  to  church,  the  place  of 
worship  and  of  gossip  being  about  five  miles  dis 
tant.  And  when  everything  was  made  ready,  Mrs. 
Mayfield  was  delighted  to  find  upon  going  out  to 
the  gate  that  they  were  to  be  drawn  by  two  enor 
mous  oxen.  But  Margaret  objected.  "Thar  air  two 
hosses  out  yander  at  the  stable,  and  it  is  jest  one  of 
Jasper's  pranks  to  take  these  steers,"  she  said.  "And 
I  jest  know  he's  a  doin'  it  to  humiliate  me."  The  old 
man,  pretending  to  fix  the  yoke,  ducked  his  head  to 
hide  his  grinning  countenance.  "Hosses  out  thar, 
but  here  we  go  like  niggers  to  a  camp-meetin',"  she 
went  on.  "I'm  not  goin'." 

"Oh,  do  go,  Mrs.  Starbuck,"  Mrs.  Mayfield 
pleaded. 

"No,  I  won't  go  a  step.  I  won't  be  shamed  in 
this  way." 

—  118- 


AT  DRY  FORK. 

"Sorry,  Margaret,"  said  Jasper.  "I  'lowed  you'd 
enjoy  yo'se'f,  still  if  you  don't  want  to  go  thar's  no 
way  of  compellin'  you.  Wall,  climb  up,  everybody." 

Mrs.  Mayfield  and  Lou  were  helped  into  the 
wagon,  Jasper  climbed  up  and  had  begun  to  swing 
his  long  lash  when  Margaret  cried  out:  "You  have 
n't  fixed  any  place  for  me." 

"For  you?"  Jasper  replied.  "Didn't  know  you 
was  a  goin'." 

"Oh,  you  think  you  kin  make  me  stay  at  home  all 
day  by  myse'f,  do  you?  All  the  time  studyin'  how 
you  kin  go  away  an'  leave  me.  Well,  I'll  show  you 
wuther  I'm  goin'  or  not." 

The  old  man  laughed.  "Oh,  pleased  to  have  you 
come  along,  as  the  hawk  said  to  the  chicken."  She 
climbed  up  and  sat  down  beside  him  and  he  dodged 
as  if  she  had  struck  at  him.  "Now  stop  yo'  foolish 
ness  an'  drive  on,  Jasper.  An'  I'll  jest  bet  anythin' 
that  these  steers  run  right  off'n  the  bluff  inter  the 
creek.  I  jest  know  it." 

"Oh,  not  with  a  preacher  an'  all    these    good- 
lookin'  women,"  replied  Jasper.    "Whoa  hawr,  come 
here,  Buck.    Come  here,  Bright." 
—  119  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

The  old  wagon  creaked,  groaned,  shuddered  and 
away  they  went  down  the  hill,  Lou  and  Mrs.  May- 
field  "bursting  into  song,"  Jim  and  Tom  laughing. 
The  dawn  had  been  red  and  the  early  morning  was 
still  pink,  with  here  and  there  a  mist-veil  floating  up 
from  the  creek.  In  the  air  were  sudden  joys,  the  in 
describable  and  indefinable  glees  of  a  lightsome  day, 
the  very  childhood  of  time ;  and  back  to  the  north  the 
migratory  bird  was  singing  his  way,  mimicked  and 
laughed  at  by  the  native  mocking  songster,  jongleur 
of  the  feathered  world.  In  all  this  blythe  land  it 
did  not  seem  that  there  was  an  ache  or  a  pain,  of  the 
body  or  of  the  heart;  the  light,  the  air,  the  music,  all 
combined  to  form  a  wordless  sermon  on  the  mount. 

"Mr.  Reverend,  you  are  silent  again,"  said  Mrs. 
Mayfield,  and  the  preacher  replied:  "I  didn't  know 
that,  ma'm.  I  thought  I  was  singing." 

"I'm  not  singin',"  Margaret  spoke  up,  grasping 
Jasper's  arm.  "I  haven't  been  so  jolted  since  the 
mules  ran  away  with  me." 

"Margaret,"  said  Jasper,  "you'd  be  jolted  in  the 
garden  of  Eden.  Jolted  out,  I  gad,"  he  roared. 

"I  wouldn't,  no  sich  of  a  thing,  an'  you  know  it. 
—  120- 


AT  DRY  FORK. 

Lou,  air  you  shore  you  put  everything  in  the  bas 
ket." 

"Yes'm." 

"The  pickels,  and  the  chickens?  I  jest  know  you 
forgot  the  coffee,  as  if  I  could  go  all  day  without  it. 
I  never  seed  the  like.  Folks  air  gittin'  mo'  an'  mo' 
keerless  every  day.  Of  co'se  you  could  put  in  the 
pickels — had  to  do  that  to  leave  the  coffee  out.  Now 
what  prompted  you  to  do  that?" 

"Do  what,  mother?" 

"Why,  leave  that  coffee  out?" 

"It's  in  the  basket." 

"Then  why  did  you  tell  me  you  didn't  fetch  it? 
What  do  you  want  to  torment  a  body  fur?  Now, 
Jasper,  whut  air  you  a  settin'  up  here  fur,  a  shakin' 
like  a  lump  o'  calf-foot  jelly?  You  give  me  the  fid- 
gits." 

"Wall,  thar  won't  be  nobody  a  laughin'  now  putty 
soon,"  said  Jasper.  "I  kin  see  right  now  that  these 
steers  air  goin'  to  run  off  inter  the  creek." 

"They  ain't  a  goin'  to  do  no  sich  of  a  thing,  an' 
you  know  it.  Miz  Mayfield,  did  you  ever  see  sich 
carryin's-on?" 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"I  have  never  experienced  a  more  delightful  drive, 
Mrs.  Starbtick.  We  read  of  the  beautiful  past,  and 
it  seems  to  me  that  to-day  I  have  been  permitted  to 
live  a  hundred  years  ago.  A  hundred!  Five  hun 
dred,  and  should  not  be  surprised  to  see  a  troop 
of  knights  come  galloping  down  the  glen,  with 
armor  flashing  and  with  poetic  war-cries  on  their 
lips.  Were  you  thinking  of  that,  Mr.  Reverend?" 

"No,  ma'm.  I  was  thinking  of  the  men,  clothed 
in  skins  and  with  shepherd's  crooks  in  their  hands, 
carrying  the  gospel  to  the  barbarians  of  old." 

"And  I  was  thinking,"  said  Tom,  "of  old  Daniel 
Boone,  with  his  flint-lock  rifle,  going  to  Kentucky. 
And  what  were  your  thoughts,  Miss  Lou?" 

"I  wasn't  thinkin' — I  was  just  a  livin',  that's  all. 
Sometimes  what  a  blessin'  it  is  jest  to  breathe.  I 
reckon  we  are  the  happiest  when  we  don't  have  to 
think,  when  we  jest  set  still  and  let  things  drift 
along  like  the  leaf  that's  a  floatin'  down  the  river." 

"Very  pretty,  my  dear,"  Mrs.  Mayfield  replied. 
"Thought  is  not  happiness,  though  bliss  may  not  lie 
wholly  in  ignorance.  I  should  think  that  the  happi 
ness  most  nearly  perfect  is  the  half-unconscious  rest 
-122  — 


AT  DRY  FORK. 

of  a  thoughtful  mind — the  sound  sleep  of  the 
strong." 

"That's  all  very  well/'  said  Old  Jasper,  waving  his 
long  lash  over  the  steers.  "But  you  can't  gauge 
happiness,  and  half  the  time  you  can't  tell  what 
fetches  it  about.  Some  days  you  find  yo'se'f  miser 
able  when  thar  ain't  nuthin'  happened,  an'  the  next 
day,  when  still  nuthin'  has  tuck  place  to  change 
things,  you  find  yo'se'f  happy.  If  you  kin  do  a  little 
suthin'  to  help  a  po'  body  along — an'  do  it,  mind 
you,  without  thinkin'  that  you  air  doin'  it  fur  a  pur 
pose,  then  the  chances  air  that  you'll  be  happy  all 
day.  But  ef  you  help  a  feller  with  the  idee  of  it  a 
makin'  you  happy,  it  won't,  somehow.  It's  like  the 
card  player  a  givin'  a  man  money  becaze  he  thinks  it 
will  fetch  him  good  luck.  I  ricolleck  one  time  I 
seed  a  big  feller  a  bullyin'  a  po'  little  devil,  an'  I  told 
him  to  quit  an'  he  wouldn't,  an'  I  whaled  him.  Did 
n't  think  nuthin'  about  it  till  I  got  nearly  home  an' 
I  foun'  myse'f  a  whistlin'  like  a  bird,  an'  all  that  day 
I  was  as  happy  as  a  lark." 

"Of  co'se,  ef  you  had  a  fight,"  Margaret  spoke  up. 
"To  you  it  was  like  eatin'  a  piece  o'  June  apple  pie. 
-123  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

Ah,  don't  I  ricolleck  once  when  we  went  to  a  polit 
ical  speakin'?  I  reckon  I  do.  A  settin'  thar  jest  as 
quiet  as  could  be,  a  listin'  to  a  man  that  was  makin' 
the  pettiest  speech,  a  talkin'  like  a  preacher,  an'  all 
at  once  you  hopped  up  an'  made  at  him  an'  I  never 
seed  such  a  fight — an'  you  come  a  walkin'  back  to 
me  with  yo'  hands  full  of  his  hair.  Laws  a  massy, 
don't  I  ricolleck  it?" 

"Talkin'  putty!  W'y,  Margaret,  the  feller  was  a 
tellin'  of  a  lie.  I  didn't  want  to  fight  him  an'  break 
up  the  meetin',  an'  I  was  showin'  that  by  settin' 
thar  so  quiet.  But  when  he  begun  to  lie,  it  was  my 
duty  to  remind  him  of  it." 

"Wall,"  she  replied,  after  a  moment's  silence,  "if 
that  preacher  out  thar  at  Dry  Fork'  to-day  begins 
to  say  things  that  you  think  ain't  true,  jest  set  thar 
an'  say  nuthin',  fur  it  ain't  none  o'  yo'  business." 

"That's  right,  Margaret.  I  don't  kere  what  a  man 
says  when  he's  a  preachin',  jest  so  he  don't  p'int  at 
me.  He  kin  say  that  Moses  drunk  up  the  Red  Sea 
ef  he  wants  to — but  he  mustn't  p'int  as  if  he  could 
prove  it  by  me." 

"Oh,  it  would  do  you  a  world  of  good  ef  he  did 
—  124  — 


AT  DRY  FORK. 

p'int  at  you.     Nuthin'  on  the  yeth  would  please 
you  so  much." 

Down  into  the  lowlands  lying  along  a  blue  river 
the  wagon  rolled.  Here  the  vegetation  was  rank, 
and  the  tops  of  the  hickory  trees  were  dim  in  the 
dazzling  blue  above.  Great  birds  with  long  legs 
stretched  out  far  behind,  flew  past,  ancient  war-bolts 
they  seemed;  and  a  flying  squirrel  looped  his  flight 
from  one  tree  to  another.  The  tall  rattle  weed,  in 
bloom,  nodded  a  yellow  salute  as  they  passed. 

"We  are  the  guests  of  honor,"  said  Mrs.  Mayfield. 
"They  have  marshalled  a  gay  army  of  soldiers  to 
meet  us." 

'The  roots  of  them  weeds  is  pizen,"  Jasper  spoke 
up,  cutting  off  a  yellow  plume  with  his  whip.  "They 
look  suthin'  like  the  stalk  of  angelica  an'  sometimes 
they  air  dug  up  by  mistake  fur  sich.  See  that  squir 
rel.  Look  how  he  rattles  up  that  hickory  bark. 
Wall,  down  yan  we  turn  to  the  right  an'  go  up  a 
little  rise,  dip  down  ag'in,  then  go  up  an'  keep  on 
a  goin'  up  fur  about  a  mile  an'  thar's  the  church. 
Who  preaches  to-day,  Margaret?" 
"Brother  Fetterson." 

—  125  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Ah,  hah,  good  man;  an'  I  want  to  say  that  he's 
got  mighty  fine  jedgment  when  it  comes  to  a  hoss. 
He  fust  rid  in  here  on  a  hoss  that  had  about  fo' 
j'ints  to  the  squar  foot.  Some  of  our  fellers  told 
him  he  was  so  thin  he  oughtn't  be  rid  in  the  day- 
ought  to  keep  him  fur  the  dark;  called  him  a  sort  of 
night  mare.  But  he  tuck  it  good  natured  an'  jest 
kep'  on  a  chawin'  o'  his  tobacker.  Then  atter  a 
while  he  lows  that  mebby  some  good  brother  mout 
like  to  swap  with  him,  an'  ever'body  laughed  fitten 
to  kill.  Then  he  said  mebby  they  mout  like  to  swop 
saddles.  Wall,  they  done  that  an'  right  thar  was 
the  rise  of  that  preacher  in  the  good  opinion  of  this 
here  community,  fur  it  wan't  long  till  he  swopped 
off  his  hoss,  a  givin'  the  saddle  to  boot,  an'  he  kept 
on  a  swoppin'  till  the  fust  thing  we  knowed  he  had 
the  finest  hoss  in  the  whole  neighborhood,  an*  the 
fust  feller  he  swopped  with  was  a  walkin'  an'  a  totin' 
his  saddle.  That's  the  sort  of  a  preacher  the  folks 
likes  to  hear,  fur  they've  got  confidence  in  his  jedg 
ment." 

The  log  meeting-house  was  on  a  hill  in  the  midst 
of  a  walnut  grove.  Its  roof  was  green  with  moss 
—  126  — 


AT  DRY  FORK. 

and  its  sides  gray  and  yellow.  Many  a  storm  had 
swept  over  this  old  pile  of  wood.  In  it  the  ordinance 
of  secession  had  been  read.  Knives  flashed,  pistols 
barked,  and  blood  was  poured  out  upon  the  floor. 
Old  Oliver's  horses  ate  their  oats  at  the  marble 
altar  of  an  ancient  cathedral;  and  within  these  log 
walls,  and  at  this  long  slab,  this  mourners'  bench, 
tear-stained  by  a  generation  long  since  in  the  grave, 
the  horses  of  the  guerrillas  ate  their  corn.  De 
scendants  of  the  same  men,  carrying  on  what  might 
have  seemed  a  continuation  of  the  same  family  quar 
rel,  first  one  side  and  then  another  occupied  Dry 
Fork  as  a  fort;  and  when  the  rain  was  pouring  as  if 
to  wash  away  the  blood,  Buell  slept  on  a  bench  in 
this  old  house,  and  two  days  later  Bragg's  orders 
were  issued  from  its  pulpit. 

Numerous  horses  were  tied  about  and  the  mule 
colt  was  blowing  his  treble  horn.  Maidens  in  their 
finery  and  young  fellows  rigged  out  from  the  pack  of 
the  nomadic  Hebrew  walked  about,  glancing  shyly 
at  one  another.  On  the  grass  beneath  the  trees, 
lying,  squatting,  sitting,  old  men  talked  of  early 
frosts  and  late  snows,  of  strange  and  wonderful 
— 127  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

things  that  had  happened  away  back  in  the  days  of 
misty  tradition;  one  man's  father  had  seen  a  ghost, 
and  another  man's  grandfather,  while  leading  to  the 
altar  a  beautiful  girl,  was  suddenly  horrified  to  see 
her  turn  into  a  hideous  witch.  When  Jasper's 
"haul"  had  got  out  of  the  wagon,  and  while  the 
women  were  shaking  out  their  skirts,  Laz  Spencer 
came  along  in  jacket  and  shrunken  trousers. 

"Laz,"  said  Jasper,  "you  ought  to  sue  that  ped 
dler.  Yo'  britches  hain't  shrunk  the  same.  One 
leg's  shorter  than  tuther." 

"So  I  hearn,"  Laz  replied,  looking  first  at  one 
leg  and  then  at  the  other.  "But  britches  ain't  whut's 
a  trotiblin'  me  at  the  present  writin'.  Miss  lady's 
duds  is  what's  a  ailin'  of  me.  Mag  Bailey  'lowed 
she'd  meet  me  over  here,  but  she  didn't  come.  I'd 
ruther  be  deceived  by  ten  men  than  one  woman. 
You  kin  whup  a  man,  but  it  won't  do  to  whup  a 
woman  till  you  marry  her,  an'  even  then  it's  sorter 
dangersome." 

"She's  your  fiance,  I  suppose,"  Tom  remarked, 
winking  at  his  aunt. 

—  128  — 


AT  DRY  FORK. 

"I  don't  know  whut  you  mean,  but  she  ain't  my 
nuthin'  it  don't  seem  like." 

"I  mean  you  are  engaged  to  her." 

"Don't  look  much  like  it.  Told  her  ef  she'd  meet 
me  over  here  we  mout  be.  Reckon  her  not  comin' 
is  a  hint  that  she  ain't  agreeable  to  the  p'int.  How 
air  you  an'  Lou  a  gittin'  along?" 

Margaret  began  to  cough  and  Jasper  ducked 
down  behind  the  wagon.  Lou  blushed  until  her 
cheeks  were  as  red  as  the  ribbon  on  her  hat.  "I  git 
along  well  with  ever'body,"  she  said. 

"You  embarrass  us,  Mr.  Spencer,"  Tom  spoke  up, 
red  as  the  breast  of  a  robin. 

"That  so?"  replied  Laz.  "Wall,  Mister,  ef  you 
don't  want  to  be  jolted  don't  try  to  jolt  me." 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  if — " 

"Oh,  no  harm  done,  Mister.  Wait  a  minit,"  he 
added,  squatting  and  peering  down  the  hill  among 
the  trees.  "I'm  a  billy  goat  with  only  one  ho'n  ef 
yander  don't  come  Mag  with  Sim  Mason.  Him  an' 
her  as  sho's  I'm  a  foot  high.  Say,  Jasper,  they  calls 
the  sakermint  the  blood  o'  the  lamb,  don't  they? 

.— 129  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

Wall,  ef  they  want  it  to-day  they  kin  have  the  blood 
of  a  calf." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Spencer,"  cried  Mrs.  Mayfield,  going  to 
him  in  alarm,  "I  do  hope  you'll  have  no  trouble." 

"Hope  so,  too,  ma'm,  but  I  ain't  a  signin'  no  notes 
of  hand.  Look,  he's  a  hitchin'  her  hoss  fur  her  an' 
you  see  ef  he  don't  walk  with  her  up  to  the  church 
do'.  An'  ef  he  do,  thar's— whut  did  I  tell  you?" 

Sim  walked  to  the  church  door  with  Mag,  and 
then  in  observance  of  established  customs,  saun 
tered  off,  happening  to  stroll  in  the  direction  of  Laz. 
Margaret  appealed  to  Jasper.  "Don't  you  let  'em 
have  no  trouble  here.  If  you  do,  I  won't  let  you 
have  no  peace  fur  a  month." 

"Don't  expect  to  have  none  nohow,"  the  old  man 
drawled. 

Sim  came  along  and  Laz  stepped  forth  to  meet 
him.  The  newcomer  advanced,  holding  out  his 
hand.  "Laz,"  he  said,  "I'm  glad  to  be  of  some 
service  to  you.  Mag  was  a  comin'  to  church  an'  as 
her  sister  couldn't  come  I  rode  along  with  her.  Me 
an'  her  sister  air  goin'  to  be  married  befo'  long." 

Laz  took  hold  of  his  hand.  "Sim,"  he  said,  and 
—  130  — 


AT  DRY  FORK. 

his  voice  wavered  and  tears  gathered  in  the  sym 
pathetic  eyes  of  Mrs.  Mayfield — ''Sim,  I  done  you 
wrong.  I  'lowed  you  was  a  tryin'  to  cut  me  out  an' 
I  done  you  a  injestice,  an'  ef  thar's  any  sort  of  pun 
ishment  you  want  to  put  on  me,  put  it  thar  an'  I'll 
take  it  an*  won't  say  a  word." 

"Laz,  old  hoss,  I've  already  put  the  punishment 
on  you — I've  tuck  her  sister  Ella,  the  flower  an'  the 
perfume  of  the  family." 

"They  tell  us,"  said  Mrs.  Mayfield,  turning  to  her 
nephew,  "that  once  the  sun  went  down  and  never 
more  arose  to  illumine  a  day  of  gallantry.  They 
did  not  tell  us  the  truth." 

"No,  auntie.  These  people  are  the  unconscious 
survivors  of  the  floral  contest  at  the  poetic  court  of 
love." 

"Ah,  and  they  have  even  touched  you,  wayward 
boy.  But  come,  shall  we  not  go  into  the  house?" 

"You  folks  go  on  an'  I'll  be  there  atter  a  while," 
replied  Jasper.  "Thar's  a  feller  over  yander  that's 
got  a  bay  nag  I  want  an'  I  mout  strike  up  a  swop 
with  him  by  the  time  the  preacher  gits  to  his  second 
an' — der — rer." 

—  131- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"You  ain't  goin'  to  do  no  sich  of  a  thing,"  said 
Margaret.  "I  didn't  come  all  the  way  over  here  to 
be  humiliated.  You'll  go  right  in  thar  an'  set  down 
by  me.  Folks  have  said  you  don't  love  me  an'  I 
don't  intend  that  you  shall  prove  it  to  'em." 

Jasper  grinned,  took  her  arm,  and  led  the  way 
into  the  house.  It  was  a  long  sermon,  with  many 
excursions,  devious  hog-paths  running  criss-cross 
through  a  wilderness.  But  it  was  ardent  and  ham 
mering.  Old  Satan  was  defied,  dared  to  come  forth 
and  show  himself  to  this  assembly,  true  soldiers  of 
the  cross.  Children  nodding  and  held  upright  by 
their  mothers,  hands  hanging  limp,  looked  like  rag 
dolls ;  and  many  a  strong  man  and  devil-hating  dame 
felt  themselves  slipping  off  into  drowsiness.  Jasper 
snored.  Margaret  pinched  him,  determinedly  awake 
in  order  to  inflict  punishment;  and  when  at  last  the 
welcome  benediction  fell  upon  nodding  heads  and 
weary  shoulders,  there  was  a  scramble  for  the  doors 
and  a  rush  for  the  baskets.  Jasper  swore  that  he 
never  was  as  hungry  in  all  his  life,  and  upon  his 
arm  Margaret  put  a  restraining  hand. 

—  132  — 


AT  DRY  FORK. 

"Now  don't  eat  like  you  never  got  nothin'  at 
home.  Miz  Mayfield,  it's  all  put  on  with  him." 

A  table  cloth  was  spread  on  the  ground  and  before 
the  old  man  had  tasted  a  morsel,  he  went  about 
looking  for  someone,  astray  at  the  feast,  who  might 
not  have  brought  a  basket  or  received  an  invitation. 
He  returned  with  Laz,  Sim  and  Mag.  The  girl 
minced,  nibbling  at  a  chicken  wing,  and  the  boys 
pretended  to  be  dainty,  but  when  the  girls  were  not 
looking,  grabbed  like  a  hired  hand  at  a  barbecue. 
After  a  time,  when  the  sun  had  moved  far  around, 
Old  Jasper  wiped  his  knife  on  his  trousers  and  re 
marked:  "Wall,  I  don't  know  how  the  rest  of  you 
feel,  but  as  for  me  I'm  goin'  off  down  thar  summers 
in  the  holler  an'  take  a  nap." 

Margaret  protested,  but  a  word  from  Mrs.  May- 
field  assured  him  that  privilege,  and  he  strode  away, 
humming  as  he  went.  Laz  and  Mag  "santered" 
off,  Sim  sprawled  out  to  sleep,  Tom  and  Lou  bird- 
peeped  at  each  other  and  Jim  and  Mrs.  Mayfield  sat 
on  a  log  in  a  lace-work  of  sun  and  shade. 

"This  has  been  one  of  the  happiest  days  of  my 
life/'  she  said.  "I  didn't  know  that  there  could  be 
—  133  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

so  much  pleasure  without  incident.  Ah,  a  quaint 
and  plotless  people,  Mr.  Reverend." 

'There  may  be  more  plot  than  you  think,  ma'm. 
These  folks  all  have  their  troubles.  And  on  the 
hill-side  where  you  see  the  white  flower,  blood  runs 
sometimes.  Uncle  Jasper  and  I  are  about  the  last 
of  our  race — last  of  the  men  folks.  Most  of  us  have 
been  killed." 

"I  don't  see  how  that  could  be,  Mr.  Reverend. 
Such  gentleness — 

"Don't  be  fooled  in  us,  ma'm.  We  ain't  been  al 
ways  blameless.  Through  our  house  old  Satan  has 
walked,  leaving  his  tracks." 

"Satan  tempted  the  Son  of  Man,  Mr.  Reverend." 

"Yes,  ma'm ;  but  didn't  walk  through  His  house, 
leaving  of  his  tracks." 


—  134  — 


TIED  TO  A  TREE. 
CHAPTER  X. 

TIED    TO    A    TREE. 

The  sun  was  down  and  the  stars  were  abroad 
and  the  young  moon  looked  like  a  silver  bear-claw 
in  the  sky  when  Jasper  turned  his  steers  homeward; 
and  all  the  party  broke  out  in  song  as  down  the  hill 
they  rattled.  The  shallows  in  the  river  sang  too, 
and  high  in  a  tree,  a  bird  too  riotous  to  leave  off 
with  the  coming  of  night,  was  carrolling  the  tired 
end  of  his  spree.  Suddenly  all  singing  stopped. 
There  was  a  flutter  in  the  bushes  and  birds  flew 
away  and  a  rabbit  scampered  over  a  log.  It  was  a 
loud  cry  of  distress  and  all  nature  heeds  the  cry  of 
pain.  Laugh  and  the  bird  listens;  shriek  and  it  flies 
away. 

"Whoa!"  shouted  Jasper.    "What  was  that  yell?" 

"Someone  in  distress,"  Tom  answered.  "Seems 
to  be  over  to  the  left." 

They  listened.    The  cry  came  again,  and  upon  it 
was  borne  the  words,  distinct  now  in  the  stillness: 
"Fur  de  Lawd's  sake  doan  kill  me." 
—  135  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Come  on!"  Jasper  shouted,  as  he  leaped  out  of 
the  wagon;  and  everyone  followed  him.  "Hold  on 
thar!"  the  old  man  cried.  "Don't  tetch  him  who 
ever  you  air.  Do  you  hear  me?  It's  Jasper  Star- 
buck  that's  a  talkin'  to  you." 

Down  a  slant  and  in  an  open  space  there  was  a 
fire  of  twigs,  and  in  its  light  were  four  men,  one  a 
negro  bound  hand  and  foot,  the  others  an  oldish  man 
and  evidently  his  two  sons. 

"What's  the  matter  here?"  Jasper  demanded. 

"Wall,"  replied  the  oldish  man,  "whatever  it  is,  it 
ain't  no  affair  of  yourn.  Tie  him  across  the  log, 
boys." 

The  negro  implored  mercy.  "Marster,  ez  de 
Lawd  is  my  jedge,  I  ain't  guilty.  I  ain't  been  er 
good  man — I  'knowledges  dat,  but  dis  time  I  ain't 
guilty." 

"Hold  on,"  Jasper  demanded,  and  the  women, 
standing  behind  him,  murmured  commendation  of 
his  course.  Tom  and  Jim  stood  apart,  in  positions 
of  advantage  in  the  event  that  there  should  be  a 
fight.  "Hold  on,"  Starbuck  repeated,  speaking  to 
the  father  of  the  two  young  men.  "You  must  be  a 
—  136- 


TIED  TO  A  TREE. 

new-comer  in  these  here  parts,  or  you  would  have 
held  on  at  the  first  command.  Don't  reckon  you 
know  me." 

"I  don't  know  you,  but  I  know  my  own  business. 
My  name  is  Sanderson,  and  I  am  from  North  Caro- 
liny,  and  we  air  goin'  to  whup  this  nigger  within  a 
inch  of  his  life  or  know  the  reason  why." 

"All  right,"  said  Jasper,  taking  off  his  hat  and 
scratching  his  head.  "That  is,  if  I  don't  give  you  the 
reason  why.  Thar  happens  to  be  a  reason.  But 
befo'  I  git  down  to  it,  let  me  ask  what  this  po'  devil's 
done." 

The  negro  broke  out  with  fresh  imploration.  "Ole 
marster,  save  me.  I  ain't  nuthin'  on  dis  big  yearth 
— dar  ain't  no  way  fur  me  ter  be  no  count.  De 
Lawd  ain't  gib  me  whut  he  has  you  folks.  He  has 
put  me  yeah  ter  run  like  er  rabbit  wheneber  I  sees 
er  white  man  er  comin',  an'  I  do  hopes  you  take  my 
part.  I'll  tell  you  whut  he  'cuze  me  erbout.  I  wuz 
er  comin'  laung  de  road,  an'  I  yeard  a  dog  yelp,  an'  I 
come  ter  de  dog  er  minit  later  an'  he  lay  dar  in  de 
road  wid  his  head  mashed.  I  wuz  er  lookin'  at  de 
po'  thing  when  up  come  deze  men  an'  'cuzed  me  er 
—  137  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

killin'  him;  but  old  marster,  let  me  tell  you  suthin': 
dar's  mighty  few  niggers  dat  eber  kills  er  dog,  caze 
de  dog  an'  de  nigger  so  close  ter  cle  yearth  da's 
friends.  I  didn't  kill  de  dog." 

"Mister,"  said  Sanderson,  "I  mout  come  yo'  way 
a  thousand  times  and  I  never  would  interfere  with 
you,  and  my  advice  to  you  now  is,  don't  interfere 
with  me.  You  spoke  of  me  not  knowin'  you.  Wall, 
you  don't  know  me,  nuther." 

"Jasper,"  Margaret  exclaimed,  "that's  a  threat, 
an'  don't  you  let  the  fack  that  us  women  folks  air 
here  stand  in  yo'  way." 

"No,"  cried  Mrs.  Mayfield,  "we  will  all  fight  to 
protect  this  poor  creature." 

Something  gleamed  in  Lou's  hand.  It  was  a  pen 
knife.  She  said  nothing,  but  she  stepped  forward, 
the  spirit  of  vengeance  come  out  of  the  night;  buf 
the  old  man  touched  her  on  the  arm  and  said:  "Lit 
tle  sweetheart,  you  can't  find  no  wild  vines  to  dig 
up  here  with  yo'  knife." 

"No,"  said  Tom,  "let  me  take  it,"  and  whispering, 
he  added,    "One  word  from  you  and  I  will  cut  his 
throat.    But  you  must  be  still." 
—  138  — 


TIED  TO  A  TREE. 

She  smiled  at  him  and  replied:  "I  will,  because 
you  say  so,"  and  again  the  shy  girl,  trembling  in 
the  presence  of  one  who  loved  her,  she  shrank  back 
and  was  a  graceful  shadow  in  the  dusk. 

"Mr.  Stranger,"  said  Jasper,  "I  am  waitin'  fur  you 
ter  untie  that  po'  old  nigger." 

'Thank  you,  Mr.  Stranger,"  said  the  North  Caro 
lina  man,  "and  I  will  when  we  git  through  with  him. 
He  wanted  to  kill  my  dog  so  as  he  could  steal  suth- 
in',  and  a  thief  ought  to  be  punished.  That's  a  law 
I  take  with  me  wharever  I  go." 

"Good  law,"  Jasper  replied.  "And  thar's  a  law 
that's  allus  in  force  whar  I  live  and  it's  this  here: 
when  a  thief  is  accused  there  must  be  some  proof 
befo'  he  is  punished." 

Jim  spoke  for  the  first  time.  He  had  stood  with 
folded  arms,  and  sometimes  his  lips  moved  as  if  he 
were  muttering  a  prayer.  And  now  his  voice  was  as 
solemn  as  a  benediction:  "The  poor  Ethiopian  was 
lead  down  into  the  waters  of  forgiveness  and  bap 
tized.  In  the  sight  of  the  Savior  the  color  of  his 
skin  had  not  made  him  a  sinner.  About  the  weak 
and  the  wretched  the  gospel  threw  its  protecting 
—  139  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

arm,  and  to-night  it  is  here  to  do  the  same.  I  repre 
sent  the  gospel,  and  as  the  gospel,  I  ask  you  to  lib 
erate  that  man." 

"Hah,  preacher,"  replied  Sanderson.  "And  what 
if  I  don't  pay  no  attention  to  the  gospel?" 

And  Jim's  voice  was  deep  and  solemn  when  he  an 
swered:  'Then  Jim  Starbuck,  the  man,  will  mash 
your  head  and  throw  you  out  into  the  road  where 
your  dog  is  lying." 

Old  Jasper  slapped  himself  and  laughed,  but  there 
were  tears  in  his  eyes.  'Thar  won't  be  no  necessity 
for  that,  Jim.  You  know  my  appetite  ain't  been 
right  good  lately — I've  needed  exercise,  and  the  sort 
of  exercise  I  need,  this  here  man  is  goin'  to  help  me 
to  take.  Mister,  once  mo*  I  ask  you  to  untie  that  po' 
nigger,  and  then  we  will  git  at  the  evidence.  You 
hearn  what  the  preacher  said,  and — " 

Through  the  bushes  a  man  came  stalking.  He 
was  rugged  and  brusque,  but  he  bowed  to  the  wom 
en  and  offered  to  shake  hands  with  the  men;  but 
Jasper  inquired  as  to  his  business  upon  the  scene, 
and  put  him  back  upon  formality  until  this  point 
should  be  settled. 

—  140  — 


TIED  TO  A  TREE. 

"Why,  it's  jest  this,"  said  he,  looking  round  at 
the  negro.  "I  was  a  drivin'  down  the  hill  jest  now, 
and  a  drivin'  peart,  when  out  run  a  dog  and  bit  at 
my  hosses'  feet.  One  of  the  hosses  knocked  him 
down  and  befo'  he  could  git  up  the  wheel  run  over 
him.  It  made  me  mad,  come  a  bitin'  at  my  hosses, 
an'  I  driv  on,  but  I  got  to  thinkin'  that  somebody 
mout  be  accused  of  killin'  him,  so  I  come  back,  an' 
shore  enough  here  you'd  got  a  nigger  tied  up.  The 
killin'  was  a  accident." 

"All  right,  gentlemen,"  said  Sanderson.  "I'll  turn 
him  loose,  and  it  will  be  a  good  lesson  fur  him — it 
will  1'arn  him  not  to  kill  no  dog  of  mine.  Cut  the 
rope,  Bob,"  he  added,  speaking  to  one  of  the  boys. 

The  negro  dropped  down  upon  his  knees  to  thank 
Jasper,  but  the  old  man  bade  him  arise  and  go 
about  his  business.  "I  would  have  done  the  same 
for  a  dog,"  said  he.  "Wait  a  minit.  You  don't  look 
like  you've  had  anythin'  to  eat  lately.  Here,  boys, 
let's  give  him  a  few  dimes." 

Contributions  were  quicker  and  more  spontane 
ous  than  the  pennies  that  fall  in  the  twilight  upon  the 
outstretched  banner  of  the  Salvation  armyist;  the 
—  141  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

newcomer  took  a  piece  of  smooth  silver  out  of  a 
yarn  sack  and  handed  it  over,  following  the  pace 
which  Jasper  had  set.  Tom  gave  a  dollar  and  Jim 
contributed  enough  to  buy  a  hymn-book. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Sanderson,  "when  I  think  a 
man's  done  wrong  I  want  blood,  and  sometimes  I 
reckon  I'm  a  little  hot-headed  about  it — my  jestice 
is  sorter  blind — but  when  I  find  he  hain't  done 
wrong,  w'y  I  don't  love  money.  Here,  nigger, 
here's  fifty  cents,  and  I  want  you  to  understand  you 
mustn't  kill  a  dog  of  mine." 

With  a  broad  grin,  catching  the  reflection  of  the 
silver  in  his  hand,  the  negro  bowed  low.  "No,  sah, 
I  ain't  gwine  kill  no  dog  o'  yo'n.  Ef  I  wuz  ter  meet 
yo'  dog,  I'd  say,  'come  yeah,'  an'  I'd  hug  him  right 
dar.  Huh,  I  neber  seed  sich  putty  women  folks  in 
my  life,  an'  I  knows  da's  de  cause  o'  deze  white  folks 
gibbin'  me  all  dis  money.  Huh,  I  wouldn'  mine 
bein'  tied  up  dar  ag'in.  Mr.  Sanderson,  I  blabe  dat 
yo'  name,  I'll  go  an'  bury  yo'  dog  fur  you.  Ladies 
an'  gennermen,  under  de  moon  an'  yeah  'neath  de 
trees,  I  wush  you  good-night." 

—  142  — 


TIED  TO  A  TREE. 

"Poetic  duck,"  said  Tom,  as  the  darkey  turned 
away. 

"Charming  in  his  pleading  and  in  his  gallantry," 
his  aunt  replied. 

"Must  have  been  brought  up  in  the  white  folks' 
house,"  Sanderson  remarked,  and  then,  bowing  to 
the  company,  marshalled  his  boys  and  marched  off. 

"Margaret,"  said  Jasper,  when  again  they  were 
seated  in  the  wagon,  "I  am  proud  of  you." 

"No,  you  ain't,  no  sich  of  a  thing,  an'  you  only 
want  a  chance  to  tell  me  so."  He  had  slipped  one 
arm  about  her  and  her  head  was  on  his  shoulder. 

"Beautiful,"  Mrs.  Mayfield  whispered  to  Jim. 
"Ah,  what  a  day  this  has  been  to  me.  And,  Mr. 
Reverend,  I  have  begun  to  think  that  there  is  some 
thing  good  about  nearly  every  one.  Even  that  man 
whom  we  thought  was  such  a  brute  became  gentle." 

"That's  true,  ma?m,  but  I  think  that  there's  one 
man  that  is  absolutely  depraved.  Not  the  murderer, 
for  he  might  feed  the  hungry.  Not  the  wife-beater, 
for  afterward  he  might  beg  her  forgiveness  and  kiss 
her.  Not  the  man  that  would  rob  the  dead,  for  he 
might  give  a  penny  to  a  little  child.  But  the  man 
—  148  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

whose  soul  is  in  love  with  money.  I  don't  mean  his 
soul,  for  he  has  none,  but  the  man  whose  every 
thought  is  money,  money.  He  is  a  murderer,  a  wife- 
beater,  a  robber  of  the  dead.  He  can  sleep  at  night 
when  he  knows  that  by  his  shrewdness,  which  has 
won  him  friends  among  the  rich,  he  has  stretched 
out  upon  the  bare  floor  a  starving  child.  Christ  did 
not  die  for  that  man." 

"No,  Mr.  Reverend,"  she  replied,  her  head  hung 
low ;  and  something  dropped  upon  his  hand — a  tear. 

Like  two  birds  Lou  and  Tom  were  twittering.  He 
asked  her  if  she  had  been  happy  that  day  because 
she  did  not  think,  and  she  answered  that  she  had 
been  happy  because  she  had  thought. 

Suddenly  someone  ran  out  of  the  woods  in  front 
of  the  steers.  The  wagon  stopped  and  Jasper 
shouted :  "Whut's  the  matter  here  ?" 

A  voice  replied:  "W'y,  sah,  atter  buryin'  de  dog 
I  tuck  a  sho't  cut  ter  head  you  off.  Fs  de  nigger, 
an'  my  heart  wuz  heavy,  an'  I  had  ter  come  an'  tell 
you  suthin'.  You'se  Mr.  Starbuck,  ain't  you?" 

"Yes,  but  what  about  it?" 

"Wall,  sah,  atter  I  tell  you,  w'y  you  kin  tie  me  ter 
—  144  — 


TIED  TO  A  TREE. 

er  tree  an'  whup  me  ef  you  wants  ter,  but  I  got  ter 
tell  you.  Not  laung  ergo,  I  stole  er  chicken  from 
yo'  roost.  An'  now  you  may  punish  me." 

"Hah?    What  sort  of  a  chicken?" 

"Er  rooster,  sah." 

"What,  that  old  dominecker?" 

"Yas,  sah,  de  dominecker." 

"Did  you  eat  him?" 

"Yas,  sah,  I  eat  him." 

"Wall,  that  was  punishment  enough.  Git  up, 
here,  boys." 

It  was  the  first  time  that  Mrs.  Mayfield  had  ever 
heard  Jim  laugh.  He  roared  and  he  whooped  as 
the  wagon  rattled  along,  and  she  was  afraid  that  he 
was  going  to  fall  off.  She  asked  him  a  question 
and  he  answered  with  a  snort. 

Wlien  they  reached  home  a  man  was  standing  at 
the  gate.  Jasper  inquired  who  it  was,  for  in  the 
dark  he  could  not  distinguish  his  visitor,  and  a  voice 
replied: 

"It's  me,  Gabe  Wells — hollered  helloa,  and  you 
wanted  me  to  fetch  you  a  newsparer  an*  a  can  of 
cove  oysters  an*  about  a  straw  hat  full  of  crackers." 
—  U5  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Why,  yes,  Gabe,  come  in.  Wondered  why  you 
hadn't  fotch  them  oysters  over.  Next  to  chitter- 
lin's  I  reckon  they  air  the  best  things  in  the  world." 

When  they  were  at  supper,  with  Gabe  eating  as  if 
he  had  not  eaten  at  home,  Jasper  related  their  ad 
venture  in  the  woods,  and  Gabe  declared  that  he 
would  like  to  take  a  hand  in  such  an  affair.  He 
swore  roundly  that  Sanderson  was  a  brute,  but  when 
he  heard  that  with  the  rest  he  had  contributed 
money,  he  wiped  his  mouth  and  said:  "You  can't 
allus  tell.  That  feller's  a  gentleman,  an'  some  time 
a  passel  of  us  must  hitch  up  an'  drive  over  to  see 
him.  We  can't  afford  to  negleck  such  neighbors  as 
him." 

"What  sort  of  a  newspaper  did  you  fetch,  Gabe?" 
Margaret  inquired,  and  he  handed  her  "The  Fire- 
Side  Companion." 

"Full  of  news  from  beginnin'  to  end,"  he  said. 
"None  of  yo'  tame  stuff  about  Uncle  Billy  a  comin' 
to  town  with  a  load  of  wood  or  Aunt  Sally  a  renewin' 
of  her  per-scription." 

"Any  discussion  a  goin'  on  down  at  town?"  Jas 
per  asked,  and  Gabe  began  to  rack  his  memory. 


TIED  TO  A  TREE. 

"Wall,  no,  I  b'lieve  not.  Hearn  one  feller  call  one 
man  a  liar."  • 

"Whut  come  of  it?" 

"Oh,  nuthin'  much.  Hauled  him  home  in  a 
wagin.  Say,  it  was  the  puttiest  wagin  I  ever  seen — 
yaller  stripes  on  the  wheels,  an'  it  clucked  like  a  hen 
with  her  fust  drove  of  chickens.  But  I  tell  you  I 
come  mighty  nigh  a  gittin'  some  money  down  thar. 
A  feller  had  three  shells  an'  bet  me  I  couldn't  guess 
which  one  of  'em  he  put  a  pea  under.  I  seed  him 
put  it  under  one — seed  him  jest  as  cl'ar  as  I  see  you, 
an'  I  would  have  bet  him  five  dollars,  but — " 

"But  what?" 

"Didn't  have  the  money.  Allus  my  luck.  Ever' 
time  I've  come  across  a  chance  fur  a  good  specker- 
lation  I  ain't  got  no  money.  But  I  must  be  goin' — 
I  don't  know,  howsomedever,  fur  wife  must  have 
fed  the  stock  by  this  time.  Lemme  see.  I  reckon 
I  better  go." 

That  night  when  the  romantic  woman  from  the 
city  was  asleep,  she  did  not  dream  that  the  preacher 
was  on  his  knees,  with  clasped  hands,  gazing  up  at 
her  window. 

—  147  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 
CHAPTER  XL 

READING  THE  NEWS. 

The  next  morning  Old  Jasper  took  up  the  story- 
paper  and  for  a  long  time  sat  at  the  table,  bending 
over  it,  reading  laboriously.  Not  far  away  his  wife 
sat,  knitting  and  slowly  rocking.  Sometimes  the  old 
man's  face  would  light  up  and  then  it  would  darken. 

"Shot  fo'  an'  stobbed  three,"  he  read.  "Hold  on, 
he's  about  to  git  another  one.  Got  him!  Oh,  you 
bet  he's  got  him  foul.  Wait  a  minit."  Then,  grip 
ping  the  table  with  one  hand  and  with  the  other  one 
grasping  the  paper,  he  continued  to  read:  "Then 
the  Captain  findin'  himself  again  surrounded  by 
the'  " — he  halted  and  began  to  spell  out  the  word — 
'  'by  the — b-a-n-d-i-t-s — threw  down  his  empty  pis 
tol,  drew  his  dirk  and — '  Who  tore  this  off?"  he 
got  up  excitedly  and  demanded.  "Here,  fetch  me 
what  the  Captain  done.  Never  in  all  my  life  was  I 
left  in  sich  a  lurch.  Why,  thar's  no  tellin'  how  many 
mo'  he  killed.  Didn't  think  that  feller  Gabe  was  sich 
a  good  jedge  of  a  paper,  but  blamed  if  he  didn't  fetch 
—  H8  — 


READING  THE  NEWS. 

me  one  with  news  a  oozin'  out  at  every  pore.  And 
now  somebody  has  come  along  an'  grabbed  the 
works  outen  it.  Margaret,  don't  you  see  whut  a  fix 
I'm  in?  Can't  you  help  me?" 

Without  looking  up  from  her  knitting,  she  re 
plied:  "Why,  Jasper,  that  ain't  news.  It's  only 
a  story-paper." 

He  staggered  back  as  if  she  had  thrown  over  him 
a  pail  of  cold  water.  His  hair  looked  limp,  and  dew- 
beads  of  emotion  stood  out  upon  his  brow.  He  took 
a  step  forward  and  limped  as  if  he  had  lost  a  part  of 
his  strength. 

''What,  Margaret,  ain't  news  when  a  man  shoots 
fo'  an'  stobs  three?  Now  you  air  a  woman  of  fine 
sense  I've  allus  said  that,  and  for  mercy  sake  don't 
come  a  tellin'  me  that  you  don't  know  what  news  is. 
Scold  me  whenever  you  feel  like  it,  but  don't  come 
a  tellin'  me  that." 

She  didn't  look  up.    "But  Jasper,  it  ain't  true." 

"Ain't  true?  Here  it  is,  right  here.  Look."  He 
shuffled  over  to  her  and  spreading  out  the  paper 
put  his  finger  at  the  place  whence  the  vital  spark  had 

—  149  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

fled.  "Look,  spelled  out  jest  like  in  a  almanic.  See 
fur  yo'se'f." 

Then  came  her  voice,  cold  and  cutting  to  his 
hopes:  "Oh,  I  know  it's  thar  well  enough.  What 
I  mean  is  it's  all  made  up — it's  a  tale." 

"A  tale?  What's  that?  What  do  you  mean  by  a 
tale?  Do  you  mean  that  it  didn't  happen?" 

"Yes,  that's  exactly  what  I  mean.  Of  course  it 
didn't  happen." 

He  gazed  at  her,  wondering  whether  or  not  to 
accept  her  wisdom.  Then  upon  the  floor  he  flung 
the  paper  and  trampled  upon  it.  "If  that's  the  case, 
I  don't  want  nuthin'  mo'  to  do  with  it.  Come  a 
foolin'  with  a  man's  affections  thatter  way.  Ought 
to  have  been  out  yander  at  work  half  a  hour  ago. 
Been  a  settin'  here  a  thinkin'  I  was  a  gittin'  facts. 
Man  ought  to  be  whupped  fur  printin'  a  lie  jest  like 
fur  tellin'  one." 

Margaret  showed  signs  of  sympathy.  "Jasper,  I 
wouldn't  let  it  bother  me  so." 

He  started.  "Wouldn't  let  it  bother  you  when 
you  been  a  stuffm'  yo'se'f  with  a  lie?  Wouldn't  let 

—  150  — 


READING  THE  NEWS. 

it  bother  you  when  a  man  gains  yo'  confidence  an' 
then  deceives  you?" 

"Oh,"  she  said,  rocking  herself  and  plying  her 
needles,  "it  don't  amount  to  nuthin'.  I  wouldn't  pay 
no  attention  to  it." 

"Look  here,  Margaret.  Now — now,  don't  make 
light  of  my  trouble." 

Into  her  lap  she  let  her  knitting  fall  and  earnestly 
she  looked  at  him.  "I  never  make  light  of  a  real 
trouble,  Jasper,  but  it  seems  that  you  do.  A  real 
trouble  is  a  comin'  down  the  road,  but  you  don't  ap 
pear  to  mind  it.  Have  you  seed  Lije  Peters  sense 
he  was  here  the  other  day?" 

"No,  I  ain't  been  lookin'  fur  him." 

"But  he  mout  look  for  you." 

"He  won't  have  to  look  under  the  bed,"  the  old 
man  replied,  slowly  walking  up  and  down  the  room. 

"Jasper,  do  you  think  he'll  git  that  app'intment  as 
deputy  marshal?" 

He  halted  and  stood  with  his  hands  behind  him. 

"I  don't  know,  but  if  he  do,  it  means  shore  enough 

trouble."    He  took  his  hands  from  behind  him  and 

looked  at  them.     "Red  on  yo'  hands  don't  make  a 

—  151  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

good  glove.  The  mo'  I  talk  to  Jim,  the  preacher, 
the  wus  I  hate  red.  Blood  may  be  thicker  than 
water  all  right  enough,  but  it  ain't  as  smilin'  when 
the  sun  hits  it.  I  don't  want  to  fight,  but — " 

"Oh,  yes  you  do,"  she  broke  in.  "You'd  ruther 
fight  than  eat." 

A  smile  illumined  his  bronze  countenance. 
"Wall,  I  ain't  always  hungry."  The  smile  passed 
and  with  countenance  grave  and  with  voice  deep  he 
said:  "Every  whar  you  see  a  home,  you  may  know 
that  somebody  has  fit  fur  it.  Every  privilege  in  this 
here  life  has  cost  blood.  If  a  man  wants  to  be 
treated  as  a  lamb,  he  must  prove  himself  a  tiger. 
He  must  conquer  befo'  he's  allowed  to  set  down 
an'  love.  I  don't  want  to  kill  that  feller,  but — " 

Laz  Spencer  appeared  at  the  door.  "Come  in, 
Laz." 

He  came  in  and  took  off  his  slouch  hat,  standing 
there  as  if  he  had  something  on  his  mind.  Suddenly 
he  exclaimed  as  if  discharging  a  great  diplomatic 
mission:  "Mornin',  morninV 

Margaret  bade  him  good  morning,  and  then  asked 
concerning  the  health  of  the  "folks." 
—  152  — 


READING  THE  NEWS. 

He  sat  down  and  twisted  his  hat  round  and  round. 
"The  folks  air  jest  tolerable,  ma'm.  How's  all  with 
you?" 

"Tolerable,"  Margaret  answered. 

"Yo'  brother  Bill  a  gittin'  better?"  Jasper  in 
quired. 

Round  and  round  Laz  twisted  his  hat.  "Pearter 
than  he  war  yistidy,  but  not  as  peart  as  he  war  the 
day  befo'." 

"Yo'  mother  still  a  eatin'  of  spoon  vidults,  Laz?" 

"No,  doc'  he  'lows  she  kin  eat  knife  an'  fork  stuff 
now." 

"Any  news  over  yo'  way?" 

"Nuthin1  wuth  dividin'.  Doc'  he  sewed  Patter 
son  up  an'  'lows  he  may  git  well." 

"Why,  what's  the  matter  with  Patterson?" 

"Sam  Perdue  cut  him  with  a  knife." 

"Fur  pity's  sake,"  Margaret  exclaimed. 

"I  ain't  hearn  about  it,"  said  Jasper. 

"Yes,  they  had  a  right  sharp  time,"  Laz  drawled. 
"Andy,  he  died." 

"What  Andy?" 

"Andy  Horn.'5 

-153  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Did  you  ever?"  Margaret  declared. 

"What  ailed  him?"  Jasper  asked,  showing  in 
creased  interest. 

"Got  cotched  in  a  saw  mill.  Ma'm,"  he  added, 
looking  at  Margaret  without  turning  his  head,  "I 
reckon  you  hearn  about  old  Aunt  Sis  Garrett?" 

"Not  a  word." 

"Fell  down  day  befo'  yistidy  an'  broke  her  hip." 

"Why,"  said  Margaret,  "you  didn't  tell  us  yistidy 
at  meetin'." 

"Wall,  I  had  suthin'  else  on  my  mind  at  the  time. 
When  things  git  to  pushin'  around  in  my  mind,  I 
jest  let  one  thing  crowd  out  another." 

"Fell  down  and  broke  her  hip,"  Margaret  mused 
aloud. 

"Yes'm.  Rtinnin'  fitten  to  kill  herse'f  at  the 
time.  Can't  run  so  mighty  brisk,  you  know,  bein' 
old  an'  sorter  rheumatic,  but  she  done  the  best  she 
could.  I  seed  a  old  feller  a  runnin'  once,  an'  I 
says — " 

"But  here,"  Jasper  broke  in,  "ain't  she  old 
enough  to  know  better'n  to  run  fitten  to  kill  her 
se'f?" 

—  154  — 


READING  THE  NEWS. 

"Yes,  suh,  but  she  had  to  run  on  this  here  occa 
sion.  She  was  a  gittin'  otiten  the  way." 

"Outen  the  way  of  what?" 

"The  crazy  man  that  was  atter  her  with  a  knife. 
Reckon  you  ricolleck  Bud  Thomas,"  he  went  on 
without  a  change  of  countenance.  "He  made  a  fid 
dle  outen  a  gourd  an'  could  play  on  it  a  right  sharp. 
Went  along  by  the  sto'  one  day  an'  he  war  a  settin' 
on  a  box  with  this  here  gourd  fiddle,  an— 

"Well,  but  what  about  him?"  Jasper  broke  in. 

"He  war  the  crazy  man.  Reckon  you  ricollect 
that  black  ash  tree  down  by  the  creek  at  Baker's 
ford.  Come  along  thar  one  time  when  the  white 
suckers  war  a  runnin'  an'  I  had  a  pair  of  grab  hooks, 
an'—" 

"Well,  what  about  Baker's  ford?"  Jasper  asked, 
coming  closer  to  him,  and  Margaret  leaned  forward 
expectantly. 

"That's  whar  he  hung  hisse'f." 

"What  are  we  all  a  comin'  to?"  Margaret  sighed, 
sitting  back  in  her  chair. 

Laz  continued:  "Didn't  have  no  rope,  so  he  hung 
hisse'f  with  a  grape  vine." 

—  155  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

Starbuck  shook  his  head.  "Oh,  you  kin  put  a 
grape  vine  to  mo'  uses  than  one." 

Margaret  turned  upon  him.  "Jasper,  I  wouldn't 
make  light  of  it." 

"I  ain't  a  makin'  light  of  it — can't  make  nuthin' 
of  it.  Laz,  kin  you  think  of  any  other  little  thing 
that's  happened  to  fret  yo'  neighborhood?" 

"Believe  not,  nothin*  wuth  dividin'.  Did  hear  that 
Tobe  Walsh  war  kicked  to  death  by  a  mule.  Didn't 
put  much  faith  in  it,  though." 

"But  was  it  true?" 

"Yes.    The  mule  got  him.    Buried  ter-day." 

"Oh,  isn't  that  sad,"  Margaret  wailed.  "And  he 
leaves  a  young  wife,  too." 

"Better  than  to  leave  an  old  one,"  said  Jasper. 
"The  young  widder,  you  know,  kin  smile  through 
her  grief." 

"Had  to  tote  her  from  the  grave,"  Laz  went  on. 
"But  she  picked  up  a  right  smart  chance  when  Steve 
Moore  came  along.  Had  her  bonnet  set  fur  him 
befo'  she  married  Tobe,  but  he  broke  the  strings  an' 
got  away/* 

—  156  — 


READING  THE  NEWS. 

"Don't  want  to  borry  nothm',  do  you,  Laz?"  Jas 
per  inquired. 

"Wall,  yes,"  he  answered,  his  countenance  for  the 
first  time  showing  signs  of  animation.  "I  come  over 
to  borry  a  hoss  fur  a  week  or  two.  Our  old  nag  fell 
often  the  bluff  an'  killed  hisse'f." 

"That  was  ruther  accommodatin',  Laz.  You 
would  a  been  compelled  to  haul  him  away  in  a  day 
or  two  longer.  But  you  want  to  borry  a  hoss  for  a 
week  or  two?  Don't  you  think  you  mout  keep  him 
a  leetle  longer?" 

"Yes,  mout  on  a  pinch." 

"Got  any  corn  to  feed  him  on?" 

Laz  began  to  scratch  his  head.  "Wall,  that  is 
whut  I  was  a  goin'  to  talk  to  you  about.  Our  co'n 
crib  war  down  on  the  branch.  Branch  riz  an'  washed 
all  the  co'n  away,  an'  I'd  like  fur  you  to  let  me  have 
enough  to  feed  on  fur  a  month  or  so." 

Jasper  was  standing  near  Margaret.  She  reached 
over  and  plucked  his  sleeve.  "You  can't  do  it,  you 
jest  can't.  It  would  be  a  robbin'  of  yo'se'f." 

"Wall,"  drawled  the  old  man,  with  a  countryman's 
philosophical  resignation  in  the  face  of  a  difficulty 
—  157  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

that  cannot  be  avoided,  "when  a  man  robs  hisse'f  he 
ginerally  knows  about  how  fur  the  work  has  gone 
on.  I've  been  a  lettin'  putty  nigh  every  man  have 
what  he  wants  an'  it's  most  too  late  to  stop  now. 
Laz,  tell  Kintchin  to  haul  you  over  a  load  of  co'n 
an'  you  kin  ride  Old  Roan  home." 

The  borrower  nodded  his  head,  arose  and  started 
toward  the  door,  but  halted  and  turned  back.  Star- 
buck  inquired  if  there  were  anything  else  on  his 
mind.  He  scratched  his  head  as  if  he  would  har 
row  up  his  sleeping  faculties  and  managed  to  say 
that  he  believed  not. 

"Laz,  wush  you'd  try  to  keep  my  hoss  away  from 
that  bluff." 

"Oh,  I'll  take  as  good  kere  of  him  as  if  he  be 
longed  to  me." 

"What! — as  if  he  belonged  to  you?  Then  I  reck 
on  I  better  not  let  you  have  him.  You  must  do 
better  than  that,  Laz.  An'  say,  don't  furgit  to  fetch 
him  back." 

"Oh,  I  never  furgit  nuthin'.    Good-day." 

Margaret  hastened  to  the  window  and  called  after 
him:  "Oh,  Laz.  We  air  goin'  to  kill  a  sheep  to- 
-158- 


READING  THE  NEW^S. 

morrer.    Tell  yo'  mother  we'll  send  her  over  a  hind- 
quarter/* 

"Yes'm,"  he  answered,  without  looking  back, 
and  slouched  off  down  the  road. 

Up  and  down  the  room  the  old  man  walked,  deep 
in  thought.  With  his  eyes  half-closed,  sometimes 
he  looked  like  a  lion  dozing  in  the  sun.  They  say 
that  a  game-cock  is  the  bravest  thing  in  the  world. 
That  is  not  true.  Nothing  cari  be  gamer  than  a 
game  man.  He  is  willing  to  die  for  a  principle. 
And  never  is  he  thrice  armed  unless  his  quarrel  is 
just. 

Laz  came  back  to  the  window  and  spoke  and  the 
old  man  started  and  looked  toward  him.  "Jasper,  I 
have  hearn  that  Lije  Peters  is  about  to  be  app'inted 
deputy  marshal." 

"Yes,  Laz,  that's  the  news  a  stirrin'." 

Behind  the  lout's  countenance  a  light  was  gradu 
ally  turned  up.  "We  all  knows  whut  that  means, 
Jasper,  an'  ef  you  need  me,  all  you've  got  to  do  is 
to  git  out  on  the  hill-top  an'  holler.  Layin'  in  bed 
one  night,  an'  I  hearn  a  feller  holler.  I  went  to  him. 
They  had  him  tied  across  a  log  an'  his  shirt  was 
—  159  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

off.  I  asked  the  cap'n  of  the  gang  whut  it  meant, 
an'  he  'lowed  that  the  feller  had  been  in  the  habit 
o'  whippin'  his  wife,  an'  then  I  'lows,  I  does — 'Old 
chap,  I  reckon  you'll  hatter  swallow  yo'  salts. 
Good  night.'  An'  I  hearn  him  a  swollerin'  'em. 
But  if  I  hear  you  holler,  Jasper,  I'll — " 

"Don't  talk  about  it,  Laz." 

"All  right.     Good-day." 

When  he  was  gone  the  old  man  resumed  his  walk, 
musing:  "Don't  want  to  see  nuthin'  red  on  the 
ground." 

He  took  out  his  knife,  put  his  foot  on  a  chair,  and 
began  to  cut  his  shoe-strings.  As  he  was  cutting 
the  string  from  the  other  shoe  his  wife,  peeping 
round  at  him,  inquired: 

"Whut  you  do  that  fur?" 

"I  don't  want  to  die  with  them  on  if  I  kin  help  it." 
And  shutting  his  knife  with  a  snap  he  resumed  his 
walk  up  and  down  the  room.  "And  I  am  a  fixin' 
'em  so  I  kin  kick  'em  off." 

"For  mercy  sake,  Jasper,  don't  talk  thatter  way." 

His  sense  of  humor  came  back  to  him.  "Oh,  I 
may  not  have  to  kick  'em  off.  It  wouldn't  surprise 
—  160  — 


READING  THE  NEWS. 

me  if  somebody  else  done  the  kickin'.  But  it's  bet 
ter  to  be  prepared.  The  good  Book  says — 

"Oh,  now,  the  good  Book  don't  say  no  sich  of  a 
thing,  and  you  know  it.  What  makes  you  allus 
want  to  fetch  in  the  good  Book?  Don't  you  know  it 
say,  Thou  shan't  kill?'  Don't  you?" 

"Yes,  but  I  ain't  found  whar  it  say,  Thou  shall  let 
a  feller  kill  you.'  " 

"Oh,  there  ought  to  be  some  way  a  smoothin'  of 
it  over." 

"Yes,  Margaret,  a  smoothin'  of  it  over  an'  a  pat- 
tin'  it  down  with  a  shovel." 

"Oh,  fur  goodness  sake,  don't  talk  thatter  way. 
It  distresses  me  so." 

"Why,  jest  a  while  ago  you  was  fretted  because 
I  didn't  treat  it  serious.  Wush  you'd  sorter  draw 
off  in  writin'  what  you  want  me  to  do." 

"Don't  talk  thatter  way.  I  am  so  anxious,  an' 
'specially  at  this  time  when — " 

"When  what?" 

"When  these  folks  air  here — when  that  young 
feller  is  a  payin'  so  much  attention  to  Lou." 

"Don't  worry  about  her,  Margaret.  If  she  has 
-161  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

to  take  bitter  medicine,  she'll  do  it  an'  smack  her 
mouth." 

"But,  Jasper,  he's  the  son  of  a  United  States 
Jedge." 

"Wall,  but  thar  ain't  no  objection  to  that,  is 
there?" 

"Oh,  how  tormentin'  a  man  kin  be  when  he  tries." 

"Oh,  how  tormentin'  a  woman  kin  be  when  she 
don't  try." 

"Did  anybody  ever  hear  the  like?  Jasper,  don't 
you  see  how  much  Lou  is  a  thinkin'  of  him?  Air 
you  so  blind  that  you  can't  see  that?  An'  you  know 
that  the  app'intment  of  Peters  mout  spile  it  all." 

The  old  man  shrugged.  "Yes,  mout  spile  it  all 
fur  Peters.  Let  me  tell  you  suthin'.  I  ain't  a  stair- 
rin'  round  to  see  how  much  one  pusson  thinks  of 
another,  an'  I  don't  know  how  much  she  keers  fur 
that  young  feller,  but  I  do  know  that  she  is  worthy 
of  any  man  that  ever  trod  shoe  luther.  We  give 
her  all  the  freedom  a  girl  wants,  an'  that  man  ain't 
a  livin'  that  could  turn  that  freedom  into  shame.  If 
she  falls  in  love  with  him,  she  will  love  him  like  a 
Starbuck — with  all  her  soul.  An'  if  he  don't  love 
—  162  — 


READING  THE  NEWS. 

her,  she'll  be  silent  like  a  Starbuck.  One  day  when 
we  was  a  goin'  down  the  creek  in  canoe  you  saw  a 
fish  come  up  an'  strike  at  the  paddle.  Margaret, 
that  was  a  Starbuck  among  fish." 

There  came  a  loud  cry  of  "halloa,"  and  Jasper 
went  to  the  window. 

"Helloa  yo'se'f." 

"My  wagon's  stalled  down  here,*'  a  man  shouted, 
"and  I'd  like  for  you  to  fetch  your  steers  and  give 
me  a  lift  up  the  hill." 

"What  air  you  loaded  with?" 

"Hoop  poles." 

"All  right,  I'll  send  a  nigger  down  an' — "  Just 
then  he  caught  sight  of  Kintchin.  "Here,  you 
scoundrel,  I  thought  I  told  you  to  haul  a  load  of 
corn  over  to  Spencer's." 

The  negro  came  up  to  the  window.  "Yas,  suh, 
but  you  didn't  tell  me.  I  heard  you  tell  dat  man 
Laz,  but  he  sich  a  liar  you  kain't  blebe  nuthin'  dat's 
said  ter  him." 

Jasper  turned  away  to  laugh  and  Kintchin  came 
round  into  the  house. 

—  163  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"But  you  heard  me  tell  him,  you  scoundrel,"  said 
the  old  man. 

"Yas,  suh,  I  wuz  er  standin'  dar  at  de  cornder  o' 
de  house  at  de  time,  an'  I  yered  you  tell  him,  an'  I 
would  er  blebed  it,  ez  I  tell  you,  but  dat  man  is 
sich  er  monst'us  twister  o'  de  fack  dat  nuthin'  said 
ter  him  soun's  like  de  truf.  I  blebed  it  when  you 
told  him,  but  de  minit  he  told  me  it  sounded  like  er 
lie." 

"Kintchin,  that's  putty  good  sense,  anyhow." 

"Yas,  suh,  an'  ain't  all  dat  sense  wuth  er 
quarter?" 

Jasper  began  to  grabble  into  his  pocket,  when 
Margaret  spoke  up:  "Jasper,  don't  give  that  nig 
ger  no  money.  He  won't  do  a  thing  I  tell  him  to." 

Starbuck  gave  him  a  piece  of  silver,  and  with  a 
look  of  deep  injury  the  darkey  turned  to  Margaret. 
"Now,  Miss  Mar'get,  whut  you  all  time  come  er 
flatter  me  datter  way  fur?  You  knows  I's  allus  a 
braikin'  my  naik  fur  you.  I  don't  kere  ef  you  is  er 
'oman,  you's  got  er  soul  ter  save,  an'  you  oughter 
be  a  lookin*  out  fur  it." 

He  ambled  slowly  toward  the  door,  muttering  as 
—  164  — 


READING  THE  NEWS. 
he  went,  and  Jasper's  sharp  command  did  not  serve 

% 

to  enliven  him  overmuch. 

"Come,  move  on  a  little  faster,  and  yoke  up  the 
steers  and  haul  that  man's  wagon  up  the  hill. 
Never  saw  as  slow  a  nigger  in  my  life.  Come  on, 
and  I'll  go  with  you." 

He  hastened  out,  passing  Kintchin  and  command 
ing  him  to  come  on.  Margaret  busied  herself  with 
picking  up  scraps  of  paper,  among  them  doubtless 
being  an  account  of  what  the  captain  did,  and  threw 
them  out  into  the  yard.  Standing  at  the  door,  and 
glancing  down  the  road,  she  spied  Mrs.  Mayfield, 
Jim,  Tom  and  Lou  coming  from  a  stroll  among  the 
hills.  Back  into  the  house  she  ran,  snatched  down 
a  turkey-wing  fan  from  a  nail  in  the  wall,  dusted  a 
rocking-chair,  smoothed  herself,  and  was  rocking 
placidly  as  any  lady  of  leisure  when  the  hill-side 
romancers  entered  the  room. 


—  165  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

CHAPTER  XII. 
DIDN'T  DO  ANYTHING  HEROIC. 

During  all  the  morning  Jim  had  been  silent. 
Standing  on  a  purple  knob,  arms  folded,  gazing  far 
away  toward  the  rugged  scenes  of  his  life's  work, 
he  had  reminded  the  world-woman  of  some  discov 
erer,  a  Cortez  viewing  the  Pacific;  and  when  to 
break  the  spell  of  his  attitude  she  asked  him  why 
he  gazed  so  fixedly,  he  replied:  "I  am  looking  away 
off  yander  at  the  duty  I  am  neglecting,  ma'm." 

"Why,  you  couldn't  neglect  a  duty,  Mr.  Rever 
end." 

"I  didn't  think  so,  but  I  am.  I  put  myself  in 
mind  of  the  old  feller  that  stood  all  day  a  smelling 
of  a  rose  bush  when  the  weeds  were  choking  his 
corn.  In  my  wheat  field  the  tares  are  coming  up, 
now  that  I  am  away,  and  I  ought  to  be  there  to 
pull  them  up  by  the  roots." 

"But  you  need  a  vacation.  All  preachers  take 
vacations.  Why,  in  the  cities,  they — " 

"Yes,  ma'm,"  he  broke  in.  "Sometimes  they 
—  166  — 


DIDN'T  DO  ANYTHING  HEROIC. 

shut  up  their  churches,  I  know,  and  they  go  away 
from  their  desks  and  their  pulpits;  but  they  are 
learned  men,  bristling  with  sharp  points  against  the 
man  who  attacks  their  creed.  I  am  not  armed  that 
way.  I  can't  argue;  I  can't  defend  the  church 
against  the  smart  men  that  Satan  has  hired.  All 
I  can  do  is  to  preach  in  my  rough  way  and  go  about 
and  beg  men  to  do  as  near  right  as  they  can." 

"And  St.  Paul  could  not  have  done  more,  Mr. 
Reverend." 

"Ah,"  he  said,  bowing  low,  and  then  looking  up 
at  her.  "I  am  afraid  of  St.  Paul.  He  was  a  great 
scholar  and  in  his  hands  the  gospel  was  a  dazzling 
thing.  But  with  poor,  ignorant  Peter  it  was  simple; 
and  I  choose  Peter  for  my  master  because  I  am  not 
afraid  of  him." 

Below  them  Tom  and  Lou  sat  on  a  rock.  The 
game  young  fellow  was  still  shy.  Sometimes  he 
looked  as  if  he  despaired  of  ever  recovering  his 
wonted  nerve,  for  in  this  girl,  so  modest  and  so 
shrinking,  he  knew  that  there  lay  asleep  the  wild 
cat's  fearful  spirit.  Bold  by  nature  he  longed  at 

—  167  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

times   to  see  this   spirit  blaze,   but   her   soft   eyes 
pleaded  with  him  and  gentleness  made  him  afraid. 

"Come  right  in,"  said  Margaret  as  they  appeared 
at  the  door.  "Have  this  cheer,  Miz  Mfayfield?" 

"No,  thank  you  I'll  sit  over  here."  She  sat  down 
near  the  table,  and  Jim  took  a  seat  opposite  to  her 
and  resumed  his  silent  gaze.  "We  have  had  a  de 
lightful  stroll,"  said  Mrs.  Mayfield,  taking  off  her 
gloves;  and  Lou  who  stood  behind  her  peeped 
around  lovingly  into  her  eyes. 

"Stroll,"  cried  Tom.  "I  call  it  a  chase.  And  you 
could  catch  a  deer  almost  as  easily  as  to  keep  up 
with  Miss  Lou." 

"Why,  Mr.  Tom,  I  didn't  walk  fast." 

"Oh,"  he  rejoined,  "you  didn't  walk  at  all.  You 
flitted." 

His  aunt  looked  at  him.  "Tom,  dear,  don't  be 
extravagant." 

"Extravagant!  That's  the  reason  father  let  me 
come  up  here.  So  I  couldn't  be  extravagant." 

"He  is  determined  to  be  literal,"  she  said  with 
a  sigh. 

— 168  — 


DIDN'T  DO  ANYTHING  HEROIC. 

Lou  gathered  up  a  handful  of  flowers  that  lay  in 
Mrs.  Mayfield's  lap.  "Let  me  have  these,"  and  she 
began  to  weave  them  into  the  city  woman's  hair. 

"Why,  daughter,"  cried  Margaret,  "don't  do  that. 
She  mout  not  like  it." 

"Oh,  don't  stop  her,  please,"  Mrs.  Mayfield  re 
plied,  and  then  to  Jim  she  added:  "Did  you  ever 
have  a  fawn  touch  you  with  its  velvety  lip?  The 
thrill  of  innocence,  the — " 

"Auntie,  don't  be  extravagant,"  Tom  broke  in, 
and  Lou  gave  him  a  look  of  tender  reproof.  "I 
wish  you'd  hush,  Mr.  Tom.  I  like  to  hear  her  talk." 

"Why — why  don't  you  like  to  hear  me  talk?" 

"I  do  except  when  you  interrupt  her." 

He  hung  his  head.  "Thank  you.  Wishes  should 
be  sacred  when  set  to  music." 

"A  very  pretty  speech,"  said  Mrs.  Mayfield,  nod 
ding  Tom  a  compliment,  and  Margaret,  not  to  be 
left  behind,  declared:  "Oh,  he  couldn't  be  pearter 
if  he  tried." 

"There,"  exclaimed  the  girl,  patting  Mrs.  May- 
field's  head,  "you  are  in  bloom." 

"She  was  the  moment  you  said  so,"  Tom  replied. 
—  169  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Do  you  think  so?" 

"Yes,  I  know  it.  She  burst  into  bloom  the  mo 
ment  you  spoke." 

"Then  I'm  glad  I  said  it.  Some  how  you  always 
make  me  feel  glad  when  I've  said  somethin'.  You 
are  the  only — only  people  that  ever  did  that." 

Jim  had  not  spoken.  Mrs.  Mayfield  asked  him 
why  he  was  so  silent.  "A  man  is  sometimes  most 
silent  when  he  is  afraid  of  saying  too  much,"  he 
answered,  looking  down. 

"Mysterious  wisdom,"  she  mused,  and  this  gave 
Tom  his  opportunity. 

"Well,  that's  what  you  like,  Auntie.  You  never 
did  care  for  anything  you  could  understand." 

"I  don't  care  for  impertinence,  sir,"  and  Lou 
laughed  at  him:  "There,  you  got  it  that  time." 

"Ma'm,  I  have  no  desire  to  be  mysterious,"  said 
Jim.  "A  hay  stack  in  an  open  field  couldn't  be 
plainer  than  my  life  up  to  now,  but  there  comes  a 
time  even  in  the  most  honest  man's  life  when  he 
feels  that  he  must  hide  something,  and  that  some 
thing  is  the  fact  that  he  does  feel." 

—  170  — 


DIDN'T  DO  ANYTHING  HEROIC. 

"There,  auntie,  cried  Tom,  "he  has  given  you 
enough  mystery  to  last  you — fifteen  minutes." 

"Is  it  too  warm  in  here?"  Margaret  inquired, 
getting  up  and  going  toward  the  door.  They  told 
her  that  it  was  "very  pleasant,"  and  she  looked 
around  at  them  as  if  in  her  opinion  it  was  getting 
fairly  warm  but  not  quite  warm  enough. 

"Mr.  Reverend,"  said  Mrs.  Mayfield,  "I  have 
never  known  a  man  like  you.  And  did  you  ever 
have  a  fight,  being  a  Starbuck?" 

"I  have  seen  men  fall  down." 

"But  you  never  killed  anybody,  did  you — still  be 
ing  a  Starbuck?" 

"Kill  anybody!'  Tom  cried.  "Why,  he's  a  D.  D. 
not  an  M.  D." 

"Oh,  hush,  you  stock  joker.  But  Mr.  Reverend, 
don't  you  think  it  is  awfully  wrong  to  fight?" 

And  gazing  into  her  eyes  he  said:  "At  times, 
ma'm,  it  is  just  as  essential  as  prayer.  Now,  Peter 
drew  his  sword  and  cut  off  a  man's  ear,  and  Peter 
stood  right  up  next  to  Christ." 

"But  the  Savior  told  him  to  put  up  his  sword." 

—  171  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Very  true,  ma'm,  but  not  until  after  the  feller 
had  lost  his  ear." 

"Law,  me!"  exclaimed  Margaret,  standing  at  the 
door,  "but  you  folks  air  cuttin'  up  scollops." 

"Mr.  Reverend,"  Mrs.  Mayfield  continued,  de 
termined  to  pursue  a  subject  so  interesting  to  her 
self,  "someone  told  me  of  a  very  heroic  thing  you 
did." 

"Why,  ma'm,  I  can't  look  back  an'  see  that  I  ever 
did  anything  heroic.  I  have  helped  many  an  old 
woman  across  the  creek;  I  have  helped  a  man  set 
out  his  tobacco  plants,  and  I  want  to  tell  you  that 
settin'  out  tobacco  is  the  most  fetching  work  I  ever 
did." 

"But  this  was  something  you  can't  make  light 
of.  I  am  told  that  when  Memphis  was  stricken 
with  yellow  fever  you  went  down  there  and  nursed 
the  sick." 

For  a  moment  he  was  silent  and  then  he  said: 
"They  needed  strong  arms  down  there  then.  The 
hospitals  were  full  and  the  churches  empty.  It 
seemed  to  me  like  the  gospel  had  got  scared  and 
was  running  to  the  mountains.  The  Lord  may  not 
—  172  — 


DIDN'T  DO  ANYTHING  HEROIC. 

have  called  upon  me  to  preach,  but  I  do  believe  he 
called  on  me  to  go  down  there." 

Leaning  upon  the  table  she  gazed  into  his  face 
as  if  she  were  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  contem 
plating  a  human  mystery.  "You  are  a  noble  man, 
Mr.  Reverend.  My  faith  in  man  gasped  and  died, 
but  into  it  you  have  blown  the  sweet  breath  of  a 
new  life.  Don't  misunderstand  me,  I — " 

"No,  ma'm,  I  won't  do  that.  It  is  not  for  me 
to  place  an  estimation  upon  you.  I  don't  know 
much  about — " 

"Come  right  in,"  Margaret  called  to  Mose  Blake, 
hesitating  at  the  door.  She  led  him  into  the  room 
and  began  to  introduce  him  to  the  company. 
"Mose,  this  is  Miz  Mayfield — "  Mose  shook  hands 
with  Jim.  "No,  this  is  Miz  Mayfield."  Mose 
shook  hands  with  Lou,  then  with  Mrs.  Mayfield, 
and  turning  to  Tom,  to  whom  he  was  now  pre 
sented,  shook  the  stool  which  Tom  held  in  his 
hand  and  upon  which  he  was  about  to  sit,  took  it 
from  him  and  sat  down.  "All  h — h — h — h — hands 
w — w — well,  I  h — h — hope." 

"Well  as  usual,"  Margaret  answered,  sitting 
—  173  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

down  in  the  rocker.     "Why  ain't  you  folks  been 
over?" 

"Been  a  t— t— t— tryin'  t— t— t— t— t— to  git  off. 
Granny  sot  t — t — t — the  feather  b — b — b — bed  a — 
f — f — fire  night  afore  1 — 1 — 1 — last  an'  come  mighty 
n — n — n — nigh  b — b — b — burnin'  up." 

"Why,  you  don't  say  so?"  Margaret  exclaimed. 

"Yes  I  d — d — d — do  say  so  a — a — a — atter  a  f — 
f — f — fashion." 

"How  far  do  you  live  from  here  Mr.  Blake?" 
Tom  inquired. 

"Oh,  'bout  t — t — t — three  sights  and  a  g — g — g 
— good  long  w — w — w — walk." 

"Charmingly  indefinite,"  said  Mrs.  Mayfield  and 
Jim,  his  eyes  set,  nodded  to  her.  Tom  declared 
himself  willing  to  bet  that  Mose  was  a  good  fellow, 
"and  I  don't  want  to  be  impertinent,"  he  ventured 
to  remark,  "but  do  you  know  they  can  cure  stam 
mering  now?  They  can." 

"Y — y — y — yes,  I  kik — kik — kik — know.    I  tuck 

— tuck  some  1 — 1 — 1 — lessons  once  a — a — a — and 

was  kik — kik — kik — cured.     Got  along  all  r — r — r 

— right  till  I  t — t — tried  to  talk — long  as  I  di — d— 

-174- 


DIDN'T  DO  ANYTHING  HEROIC. 

d — din  didn't  say  nuthin*.  Lou,  air  you  g — g — g — 
goin'  to  church  Sunday?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Lowed  I'd  g — g — g — go  with  you.  Mother 
said  I  ought  to  go  up  to  the  m — m — m — m — m — 
mourner's  b — b — bench,  but  p — p — p — p — pap  he 
'lowed  if  I  did  git  'ligion  I  couldn't  s — s — s — shout. 
But  I'm  in  a  hurry  this  m — m — m — m — mornin'. 
Granny's  sick  and  wants  some  m — m — m — med — 
hison." 

"What's  the  matter  with  her?"  Margaret  in 
quired. 

"Don't  know.     She  didn't  s — s — s — say." 

"But  what  sort  of  medicine  did  they  send  you 
after?" 

"Oh,  a — a — a — any  sort  you  ain't  g — g — g — got 
no  use  fur." 

"Why,  that  won't  do,"  Mrs.  Mayfield  spoke  up. 
"Why  don't  you  send  for  a  physician?" 

"Oh,  that's  a — a — a — all  right.     It  never  makes 

any  d — d — dif — difference  with  granny  what  s — s — 

sort  of  medicine  she  t — t — t — take — takes.     If  you 

go  to  church  Sunday,  L — L — L — Lou,  I  may  see 

—  175  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

you  there.  G — g — g — got  somethin'  to  s — s — s — 
say  to  you." 

"How  are  you  going  to  manage  to  say  it?"  Lou 
asked  and  he  began  to  make  signs. 

"Perhaps,"  said  Mrs.  Mayfield,  "what  he  has  to 
say  could  be  conveyed  by  signs." 

"Yes,"  Tom  declared,  "signs  are  very  impressive. 
Fellow  made  a  few  at  me  once  and  when  he  got 
through  I  found  he'd  knocked  me  down." 

"Knocked  you  down!"  cried  Lou.  "Oh,  how 
could  anybody  knock  you  down?" 

Mrs.  Mayfield  looked  at  Jim.  "How  charming 
to  be  a  hero  in  the  sight  of  a  beautiful  eye." 

Jim  drooped  and  said:    "Yes'm." 

Mose  who  had  been  screwing  up  his  face  began 
again:  "Feller  knock  me  down  have  me  to  w — w 
— w — w — whup." 

The  voice  of  Kintchin,  driving  the  steers,  came 
up  the  hill:  "Whoa,  hor,  Buck,  come  yere.  Come 
yere  Bright."  Mose  remarked  after  a  serious  effort 
that  the  steers  must  have  about  all  they  could  pull, 
and  then  added  that  he  must  be  going.  Tom  asked 
if  he  found  it  difficult  to  pull  himself  loose,  and  his 
—  176  — 


DIDN'T  DO  ANYTHING  HEROIC. 

aunt  cried  out!  "Why  Thomas."  Kintchin's  voice 
was  heard  again,  further  off  and  Mose  said  he 
"reckoned"  he'd  have  to  be  pulled  out  by  the  steers. 
Margaret  who  had  been  searching  the  safe  and  the 
"cubbo'd",  bade  him  wait  a  moment,  that  she  had 
some  medicine  for  him."  "Here,"  she  said,  giving 
him  two  small  packages,  "'is  some  quinine  and 
some  calomy.  Tell  yo'  granny  not  to  take  too 
much  of  the  calomy.  Mout  salavater  her." 

"Yes'm.  But  it  won't  m — m — m — m — make  any 
diffunce  with  granny  w — w — w — wuther  she's  s — 
s — s — salivated  or  not.  She  ain't  got  no  teeth.  And 
b — b — b — besides,  she  likes  the  quinine  better. 
She's  d — d— d — d — deef  and  the  q — q — q — quinine 
makes  her  head  r — r — r — r — roar  and  she  thinks 
she's  hearin'  suthin'.  Well,  er  g — g — g — g — good 
day." 

"Miz  Mayfield,"  said  Margaret,  when  Mose  was 
gone,  "I  reckon  these  folks  air  mighty  queer  to 
you." 

"Oh,  no,  they  are  close  to  nature  in  her  most 
whimsical  mood,  and  a  mother  of  fun  is  better  than 
a  step-mother  to  scandal." 
—  177  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  auntie"  said  Tom, 
"and  I  don't  guess  you  do,  but  I'll  bet  they  are 
game  and  that  is  enough  to  make  them  all  right 
with  me." 

"Why,"  Lou  replied,  "the  man  that  won't  fight 
is  a  Judas/' 

"Good,"  cried  Tom,  taking  her  hands.  "I'd 
rather  hear  a  girl  say  that  than  to  hear  her  play  a 
symphony.  Before  my  father  was  a  judge  he  was 
a  soldier,  Now  they  call  him  a  learned  jurist  but  I 
am  prouder  of  the  fact  that  he  was  a  distinguished 
colonel  of  cavalry." 

"Gracious  me!"  exclaimed  Margaret,  "I  must  see 
about  dinner." 

"I'll  help  you  mother,"  said  Lou. 

"No  you  won't,"  Margaret  replied.  "  "You  jest 
stay  right  whar  you  air." 

"You  won't  object  to  my  helping,"  said  Mrs. 
Mayfield,  arising. 

"Oh,  no,  that  is  you  may  come  an'  look  on." 

Jim  snatched  his  hat  off  the  floor  and  followed, 
leaving  Torn  and  Lou  alone  in  the  room.  The  girl 
stood  leaning  on  the  table  looking  at  the  young 
—  178  — 


DIDN'T  DO  ANYTHING  HEROIC. 

fellow,  and  though  often  of  late  had  they  strolled 
alone  in  the  woods,  yet  he  seemed  to  feel  that  this 
was  the  first  time  he  stood  facing  so  confidential 
a  privilege. 

"And  you  lived  away  off  in  Maine,"  said  Lou. 

"Yes,  until  father  received  the  appointment  to 
come  down  here." 

"Is  yo'  mother  livin'?" 

"No,  I  can  just  remember  her." 

She  mused  for  a  few  moments  as  if  struggling 
with  a  thought.  "I  read  of  them  findin'  a  new  star," 
she  said,  "and  I  wondered  if  it  wan't  the  speret  of 
some  good  man  or  woman  that  hed  passed  away 
from  down  here  an'  gone  up  there." 

"If  that  were  true,"  he  replied,  coming  forward 
and  putting  his  hands  on  the  table,  gazing  into  her 
eyes — "if  that  were  true  and  I  should  find  a  new 
star  brighter  than  all  the  rest,  I  would  call  it — 
Lou." 

She  straightened  up.  "You  must  be  careful  how 
you  talk  to  me  because  I  might  not  know  how  to 
act.  When  folks  would  hide  things  they  must  talk 

—  179  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

like  in  a  book,  and  I  can't  do  that.  But  do  you 
think  if  I  was  to  read  books  I  could  be  smart?" 

"I  have  begun  to  think  that  books  don't  make 
so  much  difference  after  all.  It's  the  soul  that 
makes  people  great." 

"There's  hardly  any  way  for  a  woman  to  be 
great,"  she  said.  "All  I  can  hope  for  is  not  to  be 
foolish." 

"You  couldn't  be  foolish.  You  might  make  a 
man  foolish,  but  you — " 

"Oh,  how  could  I  make  anybody  foolish?"  she 
cried,  and  leaving  the  table  she  stood  leaning  upon 
the  back  of  a  rocking  chair. 

"How  long  have  you  known  Air.  Peters?"  he  in 
quired  and  he  appeared  to  be  embarrassed. 

"All  my  life." 

"Is  he  game?" 

"Game  enough,  I  reckon.    Why  do  you  ask?" 

"I  met  him  in  the  road  and  without  cause  he  in 
sulted  me.  And  I  could  have  killed  him?" 

"He  insulted  you?"  and  she  came  closer  to  him. 
"Insulted  you?  Then  why  didn't  you  kill  him?" 

—  180  — 


DIDN'T  DO  ANYTHING  HEROIC. 

"Because — because — I  can't  tell  you  now  and 
you  musn't  ask." 

Away  from  him  she  turned  her  head.  "All  right, 
I  won't  ask." 

Margaret  came  to  the  door.  "Lou,  go  down  to 
the  spring  house  and  fetch  me  that  jar  of  butter," 
and  coming  into  the  room  as  Lou  started,  she  ad 
ded,  just  as  Jasper  came  in.  "It's  a  mighty  heavy 
jar,  Mr.  Elliott.  You  mout  go  an'  help  her." 

"Oh,  may  I?"  Tom  asked  of  Lou. 

"Yes,  you  may,  but — " 

"But  what?" 

"I  won't  ask  you  to." 

"Oh,  you  won't  have  to  ask  me." 

"Well,  then,  come  on." 

Jasper  looked  knowingly  at  Margaret,  who, 
laughing,  went  back  into  the  kitchen  and  the  old 
rnan,  shaking  his  head,  humorously  mused: 
"Blamed  if  I  don't  wish  I  could  fix  up  things 
thatter  way."  He  sat  down,  took  up  a  lap-board, 
and  upon  it  began  to  cut  a  piece  of  leather;  but 
leaving  off  the  work,  gave  himself  up  to  deep 
thought.  "Shot  fo'  and  stobbed  three/'  he  said, 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

his  mind  on  the  story  paper.  "Ah,  it  may  not  be 
true,  but  it  sounds  mighty  natchul.  I  wonder  how 
it  all  is  goin'  to  end.  Don't  want  to  think  about  it; 
wush  I  could  think  of  somethin'  else.  Margaret's 
got  her  heart  set.  And  I  wonder  if  my  little  girl 
has  too.  If  she  has  it's  the  first  time,  an'  if  his 
heart  don't  come  when  hers  calls  it,  it  will  never 
call  ag'in."  And  for  a  long  time  he  sat  there, 
immovable,  gazing;  and  in  his  old  eyes  there  was 
a  dream. 


—  182  — 


MIGHT  WIPE  HER  FEET  ON  HIM. 
CHAPTER  XIII. 

MIGHT  WIPE  HER  FEET  ON  HIM. 

Old  Jasper's  meditations  were  disturbed  by  Kint- 
chin  who  thrust  his  head  through  the  window  and 
inquired:  "Doan  want  me  to  take  dat  co'n  ober  ter 
Spencer's  'fo'  dinner,  does  you?" 

"No,  any  time  this  evenin'  will  do." 

The  negro  came  into  the  house  and  as  he  entered 
Starbuck  said  to  him:  "And  while  you  are  resting 
you  mout  grind  the  axes." 

"Yas,  suh;  grind  de  axes  while  I's  er  restin'. 
Look  yere,  Mr.  Starbuck,  ain't  you  got  some  work 
fur  me  ter  do  while  I's  er  eatin'?" 

"Let  me  see.  I  reckon  I  can  rig  up  a  thing  so 
you  can  churn  with  yo'  foot." 

"Yas,  suh.  But  whut's  de  use  in  stoppin'  dar? 
You  mout  ez  well  scuffle  roun'  an'  fin'  suthin  fur 
me  ter  do  wid  de  udder  foot.  Look  yere,  Mr.  Star- 
buck,  ef  it's  jest  de  same  ter  you,  I  blebe  I'd  like  ter 
quit  dis  place." 

"Why  do  you  want  to  quit?  Don't  I  give  you 
plenty  to  do?" 

— 183  - 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Oh,  yas,  suh;  dat  is  on  er  pinch.  But  de  truf  is 
it  'pear  ter  me  like  things  er  gittin'  sort  er  squawlly 
roun'  yere.  Dat  man  Peters  he's  threatenin'  ter 
knock  er  nail  kag  in  de  head  an'  ring  er  dish  rag 
an'  I  doan  want  ter  git  in  no  row.  You  Starbuck 
folks  may  not  mind  it,  but  I  ain't  uster  bein'  shot. 
He  say  he  gwine  be  'p'inted  deputy  marshal,  an' 
w'en  he  sees  me  er  grindin'  de  co'n  he  gwine  put  er 
lot  o'  holes  th'u'  me.  I  doan  want  ter  look  like  no 
sifter." 

Jasper  arose,  put  down  his  lapboard,  shut  his 
knife  and  with  a  serious  air  said  to  the  old  darkey. 
"I'm  here  to  protect,  you,  Kintchin." 

"Yas,  suh,  but  you  mout  do  de  most  o'  yo'  per- 
tectin'  atter  I'se  dun  dead." 

"Wall,  atter  you're  dead  it  won't  make  any  dif 
ference." 

"N — n — no,  suh,  dat's  er  fack.  I  hadn't  thought 
o'  dat.  Funny  how  sich  er  'po'tent  p'int  will  come 
ter  er  man  w'en  he  neber  did  think  o'  it  befo',  ain't 
it?" 

"Don't  you  worry.     You  air  safe  enough." 

"Safe  ernuff?     I  doan  know  whut  you  calls  safe 


MIGHT  WIPE  HER  FEET  ON  HIM. 

ernuff.  You  mout  feel  like  you's  safe  ernuff  ez 
long  ez  you  ain't  lost  bof  laigs  an'  er  arm  or  two, 
but  dat  sort  er  safe  doan  suit  me." 

"I  give  you  my  word,  an*  you  know  whut  that 
means." 

"Yas,  suh,  I  knows  all  'bout  dat,  but  er  word 
kain't  stop  er  bullet." 

Over  to  the  old  negro  he  slowly  walked  and  gent 
ly  put  his  hand  on  his  shoulder:  "My  word  can, 
old  man — mine  has,  an'  I  will  protect  you  with  my 
life." 

"Yas,  suh,  an'  I'll  stay,  but  ef  I  gits  killed  I 
gwine  hoi'  you  'sponsible.  Mark  whut  I  tells  you." 
He  turned  to  go  and  at  that  moment  Peters  entered 
the  room.  The  negro  quickly  shambled  to  get  out 
of  his  way,  and  halted  in  the  door. 

"Starbuck,"  said  the  visitor,  "thought  I'd  drap 
over  to  see  you  ag'in.  And  whut's  that  nigger  al 
ways  hangin'  round  fur  when  I  want  to  talk  to 
you?" 

"Lives  here,  don't  he?" 

"That  ourt  ter  settle  it  but,  I  lay  it  won't,"  mut- 

—  185  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

tered  the  negro,  standing  in  the  door.  Peters  turned 
toward  him  with  the  remark: 

"That  vote  they  give  you  don't  count  for  much." 

"No,  suh,  not  till  da  counts  it." 

"Shut  up." 

"Yas,  suh,  dat's  whut  I's  er  doin'  jest  ez  fast  ez 
I  kin." 

"Peters,"  said  Starbuck,  "I  don't  like  to  ask  a 
man  his  business  when  he's  in  my  house," 

"I  reckon  business  is  the  right  word,  Starbuck," 
and  moving  closer  to  Kintchin  he  demanded: 
"Somebody  got  a  mortgage  on  yo'  feet  so  you  can't 
move  'em?" 

"Wha'fo'P"  replied  the  negro,  ducking  his  head. 

"You  keep  on  a  standin'  thar  when  you  see  I 
want  to  talk  to  Starbuck." 

"W'y,  bless  yo'  life,  you's  so  entertainin'  I  kain't 
hardly  t'ar  myse'f  loose.  Wheneber  you  talks  it 
puts  me  in  de  min'  o'  er  fiddle." 

"But  it  don't  make  you  move  yo'  feet,  you 
scoundrel." 

"No,  suh,  ef  I  moved  my  feet  when  de  fiddle 
wuz  gwine  folks  would  think  I  wuz  er  dancin'  an' 
—  186  — 


MIGHT  WIPE  HER  FEET  ON  HIM. 

da'd  turn  me  outen  de  church,  an'  I  doan  want  'em 
ter  do  dat  Hurts  er  man's  business  w'en  he's 
turned  outen  de  church." 

Peters  addressed  himself  to  Jasper.  "Well,  you 
have  teached  that  nigger  nearly  enough  impudence 
to  break  his  neck." 

"Didn't  know  I  was  sich  a  good  teacher,  Lije. 
Don't  you  want  a  few  lessons?  Go  on,  Kintchin." 
The  negro  slowly  went  away,  looking  back  and 
shaking  his  head,  and  Starbuck  added:  "Peters, 
I'm  afraid  I'll  have  to  furgit  my  raisin'  an'  ask  you 
what  you  want." 

"I  want  to  give  you  the  opportunity  to  have  some 
sense." 

"Well,  now,  Lije,  it's  mighty  kind  of  you  to  be 
givin'  out  that  sort  of  artickle.  Puts  me  in  mind 
of  the  old  feller  that  give  away  his  shirts  when  he 
didn't  have  none  to  spare." 

"Good  natchul  talk,  Starbuck — natchul  as  the 
squawk  of  a  duck.  But  I  didn't  come  here  to  swop 
the  perlitenesses  of  the  season." 

"No?"  said  Starbuck. 

-187  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"You  know  I  have  been  out  of  the  neighborhood 
an'  ain't  had  a  chance  to  talk  business  until  lately." 

'That's  so." 

"And  you  ought  to  know  what  that  business  is." 

"Yes,  I  know." 

"Even  if  a  man  is  gittin'  old,  Starbuck,  thar  ain't 
no  reason  why  he  should  be  a  fool." 

"That's  a  fact,  Lije." 

"And  the  biggest  fool  in  the  world,  Starbuck,  is 
the  man  that  won't  keep  out  of  trouble  when  he 
kin." 

"That's  true." 

"Starbuck,  ain't  yo'  eyes  wide  enough  open  to 
see  that  I  kin  ruin  you?" 

"Yes,  Lije.  with  his  eyes  half  shet  a  man  kin  see 
a  rattlesnake." 

"Then  with  both  of  'em  wide  open  he  ought  to 
see  a  panther." 

"  I'm  a  lookin'  at  you." 

"That's  all  right,  Starbuck.  But  we've  passed 
the  time  fur  beatin'  about  the  bush." 

"I  ain't  a  beatin',  Lije." 

"Starbuck,  do  you  want  to  be  ruined?" 
-188- 


MIGHT  WIPE  HER  FEET  ON  HIM. 

"Stop!" 

"Do  you  want  to  see  yo'  wife  with  her  head 
bowed  down  on  the  table?" 

"Stop!" 

"Do  you  want  to  hear  yo'  daughter  cryin'  down 
thar  in  the  valley?" 

"I  tell  you  to  stop!" 

"Do  you  want  to  know  that  the  little  grave  down 
yander — " 

"Stop,  Peters,  stop!"  the  old  man  cried,  and  then 
held  forth  his  hands.  "You  don't  see  nuthin'  red 
on  my  hands,  do  you?  Look,  they  are  jest  as 
nature  made  'em.  Peters,  fur  God's  sake  don't  turn 
'em  red." 

"That's  good  talk,  Starbuck,  an'  it  mout  belong 
to  the  pulpit  but  not  to  business,  an'  I'm  a  business 
man." 

"Yes,  you  look  like  it." 

"And  I'll  act  like  it,  too;  I'll  tell  you  that  fur  yo' 
own  infermation.  An'  thar  ain't  a  man  in  the  coun 
try  that  likes  to  give  out  infermation  better'n  I  do 
— when  I  see  that  it's  goin'  to  be  of  use  to  some 
body.  But  I  don't  like  to  waste  my  wisdom,  Star- 
—  189  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

buck.  Look,  here,  don't  you  know  the  right  to 
ruin  you  has  come  down  to  me  from  my  folks,  like 
er  old  spinnin'  wheel?  It's  a  fact,  and  you  know  it. 
But  I  don't  want  to  do  it  if  I  can  help  it.  I  know 
I  would  make  yo'  daughter  a  good  husband,  but 
frum  what  I  kin  gether  she  wouldn't  wipe  her  feet 
on  me." 

"Oh,  yes,  Peters,  she  mout  if  she  had  been  walk- 
in'  in  the  mud." 

"Yes,  ah,  hah.    So  I've  got  another  plan." 
"Oh,  I  don't  reckon  you're  slow,  Lije,  when  it 
comes  to  gittin'  up  plans." 

"That's  true.     An'  I'm  jest  a  little  slow  about 
askin'  favors,  but  I  want  to  borry  a  thousand  dol 
lars,  an'  I  don't  want  no  time  sot  when  it  must  be 
paid  back,  nuther.    I  want  that  understood." 
"Why,  that's  what  they  call  blackmail,  ain't  it?" 
"Oh,  I  don't  care  whut  they  call  it,  but  I  want 
you  to  git  it  fur  me.    That  p'int  is  settled.    You've 
got  to  git  it,  an'  git  it  quick." 

"Why,  Peters,  I'd  have  to  sell  my  land." 
"Better  do  that  than  to  throw  away  yo'  liberty. 
You  know  that  it  means  ruin  for  you  an'  yo'  wife 
—  190  — 


MIGHT  WIPE  HER  FEET  ON  HIM. 

an'  a  broken  heart  fur  yo'  girl.  All  I've  got  to  do 
is  to  act,  an'  you  go  to  the  penitentiary." 

Upon  Starbuck's  face  there  was  an  expression  of 
keen  suffering.  Pleadingly  he  put  up  his  hands, 
looking  toward  the  door  leading  into  the  kit 
chen  and  exclaimed.  "Hold  on.  Somebody  mout 
hear  you." 

"Oh,  got  you  to  thinkin',  have  I?" 

"Yes,  an'  a  man  thinks  better  when  he's  by 
hisse'f." 

Peters  moved  off  toward  the  door  and  halting,  re 
marked:  "Yes,  may  think  better  when  he's  by  his 
se'f,  but  not  as  fast.  When  he's  got  thinkin'  to  do 
that  he  don't  want  to  do  he  mout  shirk  it  if  left  by 
hisse'f.  Well,  I'll  give  you  a  leetle  mo'  time,  but 
not  much.  My  plan  is  that  when  you've  got  a  bad 
piece  of  work  on  hand,  git  through  with  it  as  soon 
as  possible.  I'm  goin'  down  the  road  a  piece  an' 
will  drap  in  on  my  way  back,"  and  as  he  passed 
out  he  looked  back  and  added:  "Thinkin'  ought 
to  make  a  man  wise." 

The  old  man  stood  looking  through  the  window, 
at  Peters  as  he  ambled  along  the  road,  and  turn- 
-191  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

ing  away  he  muttered,  "Shot  fo'  an'  stobbed  three," 
his  mind  flying  back  to  the  story  paper. 

Mrs.  Mayfield,  followed  by  Jim,  came  in  from  the 
kitchen,  remarking,  "we  have  been  helping  your 
wife  but  she  has  expelled  us." 

"I  don't  reckon  thar  was  very  much  help 
needed."  He  waited  until  she  had  sat  down,  and 
then  coming  slowly  toward  her  he  inquired:  "Ma'm, 
air  all  the  deputy  marshals  in  the  state  under  yo' 
brother,  the  Jedge?" 

"All  in  this  district,  I  should  think,  are  under  the 
jurisdiction  of  his  court." 

"I  reckon  the  Jedge  is  putty  hard  on  folks  that 
makes  what  they  call  wild-cat  liquor." 

"Extremely  so,  Mr.  Starbuck.  He  sends  them 
all  to  the  penitentiary." 

"I  don't  reckon  he  knows  that  a  man  may  make 
liquor  and  yit  have  some  little  jestice  on  his  side." 

"My  brother  can  see  no  justice  in  a  violation  of 
the  law." 

The  old  man  was  silent  for  a  few  moments  and 
then  he  asked :  "Do  he  have  the  appointment  of  the 
deputy  marshals?" 

—  192  — 


MIGHT  WIPE  PIER  FEET  ON  HIM. 

"I  don't  know  as  to  that.  I  suppose,  however, 
that  the  Marshal  appoints  his  own  deputies.  Do 
you  want  someone  appointed?" 

"Me?  Oh,  no,"  and  walking  off  he  added  to  him 
self:  "It's  someone  I  don't  want  app'inted.  That's 
the  question  with  me."  Margaret  came  in  and  he 
inquired  if  dinner  were  nearly  ready. 

"As  soon  as  the  co'n  pone's  done,"  she  answered, 
and  he  swore  that  he  was  as  hungry  as  a  bear  in  the 
spring  of  the  year.  The  old  negro  mammy  came 
to  the  door  and  with  a  peculiar  softness  which  ever 
characterized  his  voice  when  speaking  to  her,  he 
bade  her  come  in.  "Set  down,"  he  said,  bringing  a 
chair  for  her.  "You  look  monst'us  tired.  Now, 
jest  rock  yo'se'f  thar  an'  putty  soon  you'll  git 
rested." 

"Thank  you,  Mars  Jasper.     An'  I  hopes  you's 
all  well,  bof  in  de  flesh  an'  in  de  sight  o'  de  Lawd." 
"Ah,  mammy,"   said  the  old  man,   "you  never 
forgit  the  Lawd,  do  you?" 

"How  kin  I,  Mars  Jasper,  w'en  I  so  close  ter 
Him.    An'  Marster,  dis  is  my  birfday." 

—  193  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Is  that  so?  And  how  old  air  you  to-day,  mam 
my?" 

"I  doan  hardly  know,  but  I's  eider  eighty-fo' 
tir  eighty-six." 

"An'  nobody's  life  could  have  been  given  mo' 
away  in  love  to  others." 

"I  hopes  dat  my  soul  is  white,  Mars  Jasper." 

"As  white  as  a  lamb,  washed  in  the  dew." 

"Thank  you,  Mars  Jasper,  fur  I  ain't  gwine  be 
yere  much  longer,  fur  I's  er  gwine  home.  De  road 
has  been  long  an'  I's  almos'  wore  out,  but  I'll  git 
home  atter  while,  an'  when  I  does,  I  gwine  tell  de 
Lawd  erbout  de  folks  down  yere." 

Tom  and  Lou  came  from  the  spring  house,  car 
rying  a  small  jar,  and  the  old  man  exclaimed: 
'Why,  it  must  be  heavy."  His  wife  knew  that  he 
was  charicaturing  her  and  she  stood  contemptuous, 
with  arms  folded,  as  he  sprang  forward  to  assist  the 
two  "youngsters."  "Let  me  help  you,"  and  pre 
tending  to  stagger  under  a  great  weight,  he  took 
the  jar  and  with  great  apparent  difficulty  put  it  on 
the  table. 

—  194  — 


MIGHT  WIPE  HER  FEET  ON  HIM. 

"Jasper,"  said  his  wife,  "I  wouldn't  make  light 
of  it." 

"Light  of  it!  Why,  I  couldn't  make  light  of  any 
thing  so  heavy." 

"Father,"  said  Lou,  "the  bees  have  swarmed  and 
settled  on  the  peach  tree." 

"That  so?  Why,  I  thought  thar  was  honey  in  the 
air.  Come  on  Jim  an'  help  me  hive  'em.  Won't 
take  but  a  minit."  Jim  began  to  roll  up  his  sleeves. 
"Oh,"  protested  the  old  man,  "I  don't  want  you  to 
preach  to  'em.  Ma'm,"  he  continued,  addressing 
Mrs.  Mayfield,  "he  always  goes  at  'em  with  his 
sleeves  rolled  up,  and,  I  gad,  he  fetches  'em." 

Jim  strove  to  explain  to  Mrs.  Mayfield,  but  Jas 
per  pulled  at  him.  "That's  all  right,  Jim,  she  un 
derstands.  Come  on,  or  them  bees  might  fly  away. 
Come  on,  I  tell  you.  Ma'm  take  yo'  eye  offen  him 
so  he  kin  come  on.  Thar,  I  thank  you,"  he  said, 
bowing,  when  Mrs.  Mayfield  looked  in  another 
direction.  "Thankee,  ma'm  an'  ef  I  had  a  eye  as 
fetchin'  as  your'n  I  could  haul  wood  with  it.  Come 
on,  Jim."  He  drew  the  preacher  out  of  the  house, 

—  195  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

and  Margaret  said  to  Mrs.  Mayfield:  "Don't  let 
Jasper  fret  you,  ma'm." 

"Oh,  no,  Mrs.  Starbuck,  to  me  he  is  an  old  time 
story  book,  illustrated." 

"My  father  fret  anybody?"  cried  Lou.  "How 
could  he?" 

"Why  don't  you  say  I  couldn't  fret  anybody," 
Tom  broke  in,  and  looking  sweetly  at  him  she  inno 
cently  inquired,  "Could  you?" 

At  the  corner  of  the  fence  Jasper  and  Jim  halted. 
They  had  just  seen  Peters  enter  the  house.  "How 
dy,"  said  the  ruffian,  entering  the  room.  "I  'lowed 
I  mout  find  Starbuck  here." 

"It  would  be  safer  for  you  to  meet  him  where 
other  folks  are,"  Lou  spoke  up  and  Peters  bowed 
mockingly. 

"Mars  Peters,"  said  Mammy,  "please  don't 
bother  Mars  Jasper,  he's  er  gittin'  old." 

And  toward  the  poor  old  creature  the  ruffian 
turned  with  a  scowl.  "Shut  up,  you  old  fool." 

"Why,  Mr.  Peters,"  they  all  of  them  cried,  and 
at  that  moment  Jasper  and  Jim  came  into  the  room. 
"Peters,"  said  the  old  man,  "this  woman  nursed 
—  196  — 


MIGHT  WIPE  HER  FEET  ON  HIM. 

me.  My  mammy  died  an'  left  me  to  her,  an'  as  a 
little  baby  she  was  the  only  mother  I  knowed.  My 
grandaddy  built  this  house,  an'  that  door  was 
opened  by  him  an'  never  has  been  shut,  an'  any 
body  comin'  along  that  road  was  always  welcome 
to  come  in.  But  thar  is  one  man  that  must  never 
darken  it  ag'in."  He  took  out  his  watch  and  look 
ing  at  it,  continued:  "I'll  give  you  jest  one  minit, 
Peters." 

The  ruffian  looked  at  a  gun  standing  in  the  cor 
ner;  looked  at  Jasper  holding  the  watch;  looked  at 
the  women,  who  in  disgust  turned  their  faces  from 
him;  looked  at  the  door,  and  clearing  his  throat, 
walked  out. 

"Sometimes,  ma'm"  said  Jasper  speaking  to  Mrs. 
Mayfield,  "the  laziest  man  ain't  got  no  time  to  stay 
no  longer." 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  make  light  of  it,"  remarked 
Margaret. 

"No  lighter  than  I  can  help.  I  reckon  we'd  bet 
ter  eat  a  snack  an'  then  Jim,  you  may  preach  to 
them  bees." 

—  197  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 
CHAPTER  XIV. 

AN    OLD   MAN    PREACHED. 

Several  days  passed  and  Peters  was  seen  no  more 
about  the  Starbuck  place,  but  the  old  man  knew 
that  the  scoundrel  had  not  surrendered  his  scheme, 
but  merely  was  lying  low,  waiting  for  his  appoint 
ment  as  deputy  marshall.  Such  an  office  was  not 
hard  to  get.  The  danger  attending  it  often  made 
material  scarce,  for  higher  among  the  hills  where 
the  rebellious  spirit  of  man  had  never  failed  to  gaze 
with  defiant  contempt  into  the  eye  of  the  law,  the 
distiller's  blood  smeared  the  rock  and  the  deputy, 
if  not  taken  away  by  friends,  was  left  to  the  buz 
zard.  So,  whether  or  not  trouble  was  on  the  road 
to  meet  old  Jasper,  depended  upon  a  piece  of  paper, 
to  be  written  and  stamped  in  the  capital  of  the 
State.  But  something  else  soon  arose  to  claim  the 
sympathetic  attention  of  the  household. 

One  morning  Lou  came  running  into  the  house 
almost  breathless,  with  the  excited  words  that  old 
mammy  was  dying  in  her  cabin.    They  all  of  them 
—  198  — 


AN  OLD  MAN  PREACHED. 

hastened  to  her  bedside,  and  when  she  saw  the  old 
man  kneeling  upon  the  floor,  she  put  forth  her 
mummied  hand  and  left  it  rest  upon  his  head. 

"Fs  gwine  tell  de  Lawd  erbout  de  folks  down 
yere,"  were  her  last  words,  and  from  the  woods  they 
brought  wild  flowers  and  among  them  she  slept, 
black  sentiment  of  a  hallowed  past — a  past  of  slav 
ery,  but  of  love.  More  than  treasured  heirlooms,  of 
rusty  swords  which,  once  bright,  had  flashed  in 
gallant  hands;  more  than  tress  of  hair,  tipped  with 
gold  and  ribbon-bound;  more  than  old  love-letters, 
books  or  fading  picture  of  serenest  face — more  than 
all  else  does  the  old  black  mother  bind  us  to  the 
sunny  days  of  yore.  Beneath  a  tree,  where  at  even 
ing  when  the  sun  was  low  often  had  she  sat  watching 
the  cows  as  home  they  came  from  the  cane-breaks 
in  the  bottoms,  they  dug  her  grave;  and  from  all 
about,  from  fern-fringed  coves  and  knobs  where 
the  scrub  oak  grew,  the  people  came,  old  men  and 
women  to  pay  their  respects  to  this  bit  of  another 
age,  going  home — and  the  children,  came  wonder- 
ingly,  curious,  with  pictures  of  witches  in  their  fertile 
minds.  The  sermon  was  preached  by  an  old  negro 
-199- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

nearing  ninety.  At  the  head  of  the  grave  he  stood 
and  cast  his  whitish  eyes  about,  but  nothing  was 
there  for  him  to  see,  for  during  many  years  he  had 
groped  about  in  darkness.  Once  the  property  and 
playmate  of  a  favored  child,  he  had  been  taught 
to  read,  and  as  the  years  passed  on,  stubborn  learn 
ing  yielded  to  him,  and  along  the  hill-sides  he 
walked  with  the  old  prophets,  with  their  poetic 
words  burning  in  his  mind. 

"Friends,  close  to  me  but  somewhere  off  in  the 
darkness,"  he  said,  "we  have-  come  here  to  put  this 
poor  old  piece  of  human  clay  in  the  cradle  that 
won't  be  rocked  until  the  last  day.  In  the  years 
gone  by,  many  a  time  have  we  seen  her,  at  the 
break  of  day,  coming  home  from  a  bedside  where 
she  had  watched  and  nursed  all  night.  When  our 
spirits  were  low  for  want  of  hope,  she  has  sung 
us  back  into  faith.  When  our  blood  leaped  to  throw 
aside  lowly  ways  and  take  up  with  the  ways  of  sin, 
she  told  us  that  she  was  going  home  to  tell  the 
Lord.  No  letter  in  the  great  Book  fastened  itself 
on  her  poor  mind,  but  in  her  soul  the  spirit  of  that 
Book  always  had  a  home.  My  friends,  here  was  a 
—  200  — 


AN  OLD  MAN  PREACHED. 

poor  old  creature  who  never  in  all  her  long  life  had 
anything  to  hope  for  except  a  word  of  gratitude 
for  a  kindness  done.  Many  a  time  I  read  the  Bible 
to  her,  and  though  I  made  it  the  study  of  my  long 
life,  yet  from  what  might  seem  the  darkness  of  her 
mind,  there  would  sometimes  flash  a  new  light  and 
fall  with  bright  explanation  upon  its  pages."  The 
old  negro  halted  to  wipe  his  brow  and  Jim  whis 
pered  to  Jasper:  "Is  that  learning  or  ignorance 
inspired?  I  never  heard  many  white  men  talk  that 
way." 

"I  don't  know  what  it  is,"  Jasper  replied.  "But 
that  old  man,  I  have  hearn  tell,  went  through  a 
great  school  along  with  his  young  marster." 

"It  should  not  be  in  sorrow  that  we  place  her 
here,"  the  preacher  continued.  "With  the  simple 
minded  and  therefore  the  virtuous,  she  accepted 
the  gospel  as  a  reality  and  not  as  a  theory,  and  a 
gleaner  in  the  harvest  field  of  promise,  she  takes 
to  the  Master  her  old  hands  full  of  the  wheat  of 
faith,  and  her  soul  will  enter  upon  its  glorious  re 
ward.  Let  us  pray. 

As  they  were  returning  from  the  grave  a  negro 
—  201  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

came  up  to  Jasper  and  said  that  he  wished  for  a  mo 
ment  to  speak  to  him.  "Doan  you  reccernize  me?" 
he  inquired,  and  Starbuck  replied  that  he  did  not. 

"W'y,  sah,  I's  de  generman  whut  de  white  man 
had  tied  ter  de  tree." 

"Oh,  yes,  and  also  the  gentleman  that  fell  in  love 
with  my  old  rooster." 

"Yas,  sah,  de  se'f  same." 

"And  now  what  can  I  do  for  you — put  another 
chicken  in  yo'  way?" 

"No,  sah,  dat  ain't  whut  I  want.  I  wuz  er  cuttin' 
some  wood  dis  mawnin'  ober  at  de  Peters'  place, 
an'  I  yere  some  talk  dat  don't  soun'  like  er  flute. 
'Pear  like  dat  white  man  has  got  some  trouble  in  his 
head  fur  you." 

"Yes,  I  know." 

"An,  frum  whut  I  coul'  gether  he  gwine  gib  it 
ter  you;  an'  ef  you  wants  me  ter  I'll  he'p  you  tie 
him  ter  er  tree  an'  w'ar  him  out." 

"No,  that  won't  do.  But  do  you  know  whether  or 
not  he  has  got  a  app'intment  from  off  yander  at 
Nashville?  Did  you  hear?" 

"I  doan  think  it  quite  got  yere  yit,  but  he  keep  on 
—  202  — 


AN  OLD  MAN  PREACHED. 

er  lookin'  down  de  road  'spectin'  it  to  come  erlaung 
at  any  minit.  Ef  you  want  me  ter,  suh,  I'll  keep 
er  lookout  while  I's  er  workin'  roun'  de  place, 
an'  knock  him  in  de  head  de  minit  it  do  come." 

"No,  you  musn't  do  that.  Is  he  expectin'  some 
help?" 

"He  wuz  er  talkin'  erbout  some  men,  sah.  You 
ain't  got  no  cullud  ladies  ober  at  yo'  house  now, 
is  you?" 

"No,  an*  I  don't  want  any  mo'  for  none  could 
take  the  place  of  old  mammy." 

"No,  sah,  I  reckons  not,  but  I  wuz  jest  er  thinkin' 
dat  ef  you  had  any  dar  I  would  drap  ober  a  visitin'. 
I's  allus  sorter  s'ciety  struck  atter  I  goes  ter  er 
funul.  It's  den  dat  I  kin  fetch  'em  wid  my  talk. 
It's  easy  ter  out-talk  er  lady  atter  er  funul.  I's 
had  'em  take  down  er  ole  glove  an'  empty  dar  mon 
ey  in  my  han'." 

"What's  your  name?" 

"Da  calls  me  Ham,  suh." 

"Well,  Ham,  I  reckon  thar's  a  good  deal  of  the 
scoundrel  about  you." 

"Ain't  it  funny  suh,  dat  I's  yered  dat  befo'? 
—  203- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

Yas,  suh;  but  scounnul  or  not,  I'll  keep  er  sharp 
lookout  on  dat  man  Peters  an'  come  an'  tell  you  ef 
suthin'  happen." 

Lou  was  tearful  and  depressed  over  the  death  of 
the  old  woman,  whom  she  had  loved,  who  indeed 
was  as  a  gentle  grandmother  to  her,  and  going 
home  from  the  burial  had  but  little  to  say;  and  Tom, 
respecting  what  to  him  was  a  strange  grief,  walked 
along  in  silence.  And  for  the  most  part  Jim  was 
silent,  too,  but  Mrs.  Mayfield  was  aroused  by  what 
she  had  seen  and  heard.  "Every  day  this  rugged 
world  up  here  presents  something  new,  Mr.  Rev 
erend.  Instead  of  becoming  more  able  to  compare 
it  with  other  places  I  have  known,  it  is  further  and 
further  removed  as  time  passes.  Of  course  I  had 
read  books  and  heard  songs,  but  never  before  com 
ing  here  did  I  believe  that  in  real  slavery  had  there 
existed  poetry." 

'They  tell  me,  ma'm,  that  the  greatest  poetry  has 
come  out  of  the  dark,"  he  replied,  walking  with  his 
eyes  cast  down. 

"Then  even  as  a  Southerner  you  don't  believe 
that  slavery  was  right." 

—  204  — 


AN  OLD  MAN  PREACHED. 

"No,  ma'm,  for  slavery  must  dwarf  the  soul  and 
the  Book  teaches  that  the  Ethiopian  had  a  soul  to 
save." 

"But  some  of  the  slaves  must  have  been  kindly 
treated." 

"Yes,  ma'm,  but  the  true  way  to  be  kind  to  ig 
norance  is  to  enlighten  it." 

"The  old  man  who  preached  had  known  enlight 
enment  and  yet  he  holds  no  bitterness  against  the 
people  who  kept  his  race  in  the  dark." 

"Ma'm,  as  a  general  thing  the  negro  is  not  re 
vengeful.  Sometimes  he  is  a  beast  and  he  com 
mits  terrible  crimes,  but  he  is  often  like  an  animal— 
a  dog.  Kindness  makes  him  forget  an  injury.  With 
his  strong  animal  nature  his  affection  is  warm,  and 
sometimes  when  he  forgets  revenge  he  has  also  for 
gotten  gratitude." 

He  fell  into  silence  and  they  walked  slowly  along, 
now  far  behind  the  others.  She  strove  to  lead  him 
back  into  a  discussion,  but  he  would  not  talk,  and 
when  they  reached  the  house,  she  sat  down  alone, 
and  he  stood  out  at  the  fence,  looking  up  and  down 
the  road.  A  man  came  along  and  asked  him  how 
—  205  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

much  longer  he  expected  to  remain  in  the  neigh 
borhood,  and  glancing  round  at  the  house,  at  the 
woman  who  sat  near  the  door,  he  replied:  "Don't 
think  I'm  going  to  stay  much  longer.  Have  you 

had  any  news  from  over  my  way?" 

"None  except  they  are  anxious  for  you  to  come 
on  back." 

"Well,  you  may  tell  them  that  they  may  expect 
me  soon." 

That  night  the  household  went  early  to  bed,  with 
the  exception  of  Old  Jasper  who,  with  a  candle,  sat 
at  his  table,  not  reading  the  story  paper,  but  at 
tempting  to  write. 


—  206  — 


THE  GIRL  AND  THE  CHURN. 
CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  GIRL  AND   THE   CHURN. 

The  next  morning  Lou  was  churning  out  in  the 
yard  and  near  her  Mrs.  Mayfield  sat,  sewing.  The 
scene  was  inspiring.  Off  to  the  right  flowed  the 
blue  creek,  and  everywhere  were  the  hills,  softly 
purple  in  the  distance. 

"Things  look  so  lonesome  since  poor  mammy 
died,"  said  the  girl 

"But  her  passing  away  was  beautiful/'  the  city 
woman  made  reply,  sewing,  thinking,  glancing  up 
with  a  sigh  and  then  permitting  her  gaze  to  wander 
off  among  the  hills.  "You  were  very  fond  of  her, 
weren't  you?" 

"Yes.  Her  black  face  was  one  of  the  first  I  ever 
saw.  She  nursed  father  and  me,  too;  and  she  was 
like  a  mother.  I — I  wish  you  would  stay  here  a 
long  time,  Mrs.  Mayfield." 

"I  don't  like  to  think  of  returning  to  what  people 
almost  senselessly  call  the  world.    This  is  the  world 
as  God  made  it.     And  amid  these  heart-throbs  of 
genuine  nature  I  am  beginning  to  live  anew." 
—  207- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"But  you'd  get  tired  of  it  if  you  had  to  milk  a 
cow  that  can  pop  her  tail  like  a  whip,"  and  after 
churning  vigorously  for  a  time,  she  inquired:  "Did 
you  have  trouble  away  off  yonder  where  so  many 
folks  live?" 

"Yes,  my  married  life  ended  in  misery." 

Lou  ceased  to  churn  and  for  a  time  stood  musing. 
"Did  you'  husband  tell  you  a  lie?" 

"He  lived  a  lie,  my  dear." 

"Lived  a  lie?  I  don't  understand  how  anybody 
can  do  that.  Didn't  he  love  you?" 

"Once,  perhaps,  but  the  love  of  some  men  is  as 
variable  as  the  wind,  blowing  in  many  directions." 

"But  how  could  he  tell  you  he  loved  you  if  he 
didn't?" 

"My  dear,  men  tell  women  many  things  that 
aren't  true:" 

"I  don't  like  to  know  that."  She  ceased  churning 
again  and  thoughtfully  leaned  upon  the  dasher. 
Suddenly  she  looked  up  and  then  came  the  ques 
tion:  "And  did  they  put  yo'  husband  in  jail?" 

"Oh,  no." 

"What  did  they  do  with  him?" 
—  208  -- 


THE  GIRL  AND  THE  CHURN. 

"His  friends  shrugged  their  shoulders,  laughed 
and — forgave  him." 

"And  didn't  yo'  friends  try  to  kill  him?" 

"Oh,  certainly  not." 

"What  did  they  do?" 

"Well,  they  shrugged — and  didn't  forgive  me." 

"But  they  had  nothing  to  forgive,"  she  replied, 
with  a  frown. 

"In  the  world,  my  dear,  that  makes  no  differ 
ence."  She  was  silent  for  a  time  and  the  girl  stood 
motionless,  looking  at  her.  Sometimes  I  have 
thought,"  she  continued,  "that  it  was  not  altogether 
his  fault.  With  the  error  of  tenderness  and  con 
fidence  I  believed  that  my  life  was  his,  his  mine;  I 
believed  that  his  every  thought  belonged  to  me — 
and  perhaps  I  asked  him  too  many  questions,  and 
when  a  woman  begins  to  do  that,  she  is  uncon 
sciously  setting  a  trap  for  her  husband." 

For  a  moment  the  girl  looked  at  her.  "I  don't 
know  what  you  mean.  But  when  you  came  here 
with  all  yo'  putty  dresses,  I  thought  you  must  be 
happy." 

"Little  girl,  there  are  many  well-dressed  troubles, 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

and  misery  may  gleam  with  diamonds.  But  we 
won't  talk  about  it.  I  have  battled  it  out  and  now  I 
am  surprised — and  perhaps  just  a  little  disap 
pointed,"  she  added  with  a  laugh,  "to  find  that  I'm 
not  as  unhappy  as  I  was.  Sometimes  there  is  a  con 
solation  in  feeling  that  we  are  utterly  wretched." 

"Is  there?"  She  meditated  for  a  time,  puzzled, 
and  then  said:  "I  don't  believe  it.  You  might  just 
as  well  say  that  we  have  better  health  when  we're 
sick." 

Mrs.  Mayfield  looked  away,  and  the  girl  stricken 
with  remorse,  hastened  to  her  and  said:  "There,  I 
have  been  too  brash,  haven't  I?  You  must  forgive 
me  for  I  didn't  intend  to  be  brash." 

"Brash,  my  dear?    What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

She  laughed.  "Why,  I  thought  everybody 
know'd  what  brash  meant.  Well,  it's  er — too  quick 
to  say  somethin'  you  oughtn't  to  say." 

"Well,  then,  I  don't  think  you  were  'brash.' " 

"Thank  you."  She  resumed  her  work,  and  after 
a  time  left  off  to  inquire:  "May  I  ask  you  some- 
thin'?" 

"Certainly — anything." 

—  210  — 


THE  GIRL  AND  THE  CHURN. 

"Well,  where  you  came  from  how  long  does  it 
take  anybody  to — to  fall — in  love?" 

Mrs.  Mayfield  blushed.  "No  longer  than  it  does 
here,  my  dear.  Sometimes  here  and  everywhere 
love  comes  like  death,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 
But  why  do  you  ask?" 

Upon  her  bosom  the  girl  pressed  her  hands.  "Be 
cause  lately  there  is  somethin'  here  that  tastes  bit 
ter  an'  sweet  at  the  same  time.  You  have  told  me 
somethin'  about  yo'se'f  an'  now  I  will  tell  you  some- 
thin'.  I — I  love  Tom." 

The  woman  arose.  "Oh,  but  you  mustn't  tell  it — 
you  mustn't  let  him  know  it.  He  is  wayward  and  I 
am  afraid  that  he  has  innocently  deceived  you.  He 
is  hardly  responsible — he  says  many  things  he  does 
n't  mean.  He — 

"And  is  he  a  liar,  too?"  the  girl  exclaimed,  her 
eyes  ablaze  with  anger. 

"Oh,  no,  not  that.    But  has  he  told  you?" 

She   stood  cold  and  defiant.     "Not  with  words 

that  I  didn't  understand,  but  sometimes  when  he 

looks  into  my  eyes  I  feel  that  he  is  tellin'  me  with 

somethin'  I  do  understand,  and  now — now  I  must 

—  211  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

shut  my  eyes."    And  catching  up  the  churn  she  ran 

into  the  house,  Mrs.  Mayfield  calling  after  her. 

•>. 

"Come  back,  Lou,  I  didn't  mean  that.  Please 
come  back  and  let  me  explain."  She  hastened  tow 
ard  the  door  and  Lou  came  running  out.  "Lou,  I 
didn't  mean —  But  she  would  not  stay  to  hear. 
She  ran  away  and  Mrs.  Mayfield  was  begging  her 
to  return  when  Tom  came  hurriedly  out  of  the 
house.  The  girl  had  seen  him  and  with  fluttering 
heart  she  was  seeking  the  loneliness  of  the  woods. 

Mrs.  Mayfield  seized  Tom  by  the  hand.  "Just 
a  moment,  Tom.  Wait,  sir;  just  a  moment."  He 
strove  to  pull  away,  but  she  held  him  back. 

"Yes,  as  soon  as  I  catch  the  fawn.  Let  me  go; 
please." 

"Why,  have  things  come  to  such  a  pass  as  this? 
Wait  just  a  moment,  I  tell  you." 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

"Why  won't  you  be  more  considerate?  Why  do 
you  act  this  way  ?  What  are  you  trying  to  do  ?  You 
must  remember  that  Mr.  Starbuck  is  our  host,  and 
that  his  daughter,  while  one  of  the  most  lovable  of 

little  girls—" 

—212— 


THE  GIRL  AND  THE  CHURN. 

"Ah,  you  are  leaving  off  your  romance  and  are 
coming  down  to  level-headedness.  Yes,  she  is  lov 
able  and  as  sweet  as  a  wild  strawberry,  and  I  have 
fought  against  this  thing  until  I  am  tired  of  it.  But 
what  are  you  trying  to  get  at" 

"She  is  not  of  your  world,  Tom." 

"Oh,  world  be  blowed.  I've  got  no  world — never 
had  one." 

"Well,  then,  your  set,  your — " 

"Damn  my  set,  if  I've  got  one.  I  wouldn't  give 
her  for  all  the  sets  in  the  world.  You  can  see  that — 
you  must  have  seen  it  all  along." 

"Then  you  are  in  earnest?"  she  asked,  putting  her 
arm  about  him. 

"In  earnest?  You  might  just  as  well  ask  a  dying 
man  if  he  means  it." 

"That's  all  I  want  to  know,  my  boy — I  want  to 
know  that  you  are  true." 

"You  are  all  right,  auntie,"  he  said,  kissing  her. 

"It  is  simply  a  question  of  love,  Tom.  And  that 
should  come  before  everything.  Go  and  find  her." 

"Yes,  if  I  have  to  track  her  with  the  hounds,"  he 
replied,  hastening  away ;  and  she  stood  looking  after 
—  213  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

him,  with  a  new  light  in  her  eye.    And  while  she  was 
standing  there,  Jim  came  out  of  the  house. 

"Ma'm,"  he  said,  and  she  turned  with  a  start; 
and  toward  her  he  came  with  a  gentle  boldness,  and 
she  looked  at  him  in  surprise.  "Ma'm,  I  have  come 
to  tell  you  good-bye." 

Her  breath  came  quick,  and  then  with  a  smile  she 
quieted  herself  as  one  resigned  to  evil  news.  "Why, 
you  aren't  going,  are  you?" 

Standing  a  few  paces  from  her  he  hung  low  his 
head.  "Yes,  I  thought  I'd  better  cut  my  stay  a  little 
short.  My  people  need  me/' 

As  someone  far  away  she  saw  him,  though  he  was 
nearer  now.  "But  don't  we — don't  your  uncle  need 
you?" 

He  was  not  too  big,  not  awkward  now — his  hands 
were  not  in  his  way,  and  thinking  not  upon  how  to 
stand,  stood  gracefully;  and  the  breeze  that  came 
down  the  creek  brought  cool  perfume  from  the  nest 
ling  coves  where  all  the  day  and  the  night  the  wild 
rose  nodded. 

"No,  ma'm;  my  work  lies  away  over  among  the 
mountains."     She  turned  to  walk  away  from  him, 
—  214  — 


I 

THE  GIRL  AND  THE  CHURN. 

but  looking  up,  was  closer.  "I  beg  yo'  pardon, 
ma'm,  but  haven't  you  got  a  picture  of  yo'se'f  you 
would  give  me?" 

"A  picture  of  me?  What  do  you  want  with  it,  Mr. 
Reverend?" 

"My  cabin  is  under  the  hill,  and  in  the  winter  time 
it  is  dark  there  and  I  would  like  to  have — have  a 
never-failing  lamp  to  lighten  it." 

"Oh,"  and  her  hands  were  pressed  to  her  bosom. 
"You  can't  mean  that." 

"Ma'm,  I  don't  joke  about  sacred  things."    - 

"Mr.   Reverend—" 

"If  you  would  call  me  Jim  one  time — just  once, 
I  should  have  something  to  dream  about." 

She  gestured  and  he  caught  her  hand.  "Please 
don't,"  she  pleaded,  slowly  taking  her  hand  away. 
"Please  don't  talk  that  way.  You  know  I  told  you 
that  you  had  revived  my  faith  in  man,  after  it  had 
gasped  and  died.  But  you  spoke  a  resurrecting 
word  and — " 

"But  would  my  dreaming  again  and  again  that  I 
had  heard  you  call  me  Jim — would  that  kill  it  again? 
Honey, — I — I  beg  your  pardon.  I  am  used  to  talk- 
—  215  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

ing  to  children,  and  I  call  them  by  pet  names.  I 
beg  your  pardon." 

She  looked  far  away,  at  the  blue  water  rippling 
down  the  hills.  "If  in  your  sight  I  could  be  as  a 
little  child." 

"Ma'm,  I  lead  a  child,  but  you  could  lead  me." 

"To  walk  with  you,  Mr.  Reverend,  would  be  along 
the  upward  path,  toward  the  sunrise." 

"Ma'm,  you  make  me  think  of  Christian  when  he 
stood  with  clasped  hands,  looking  up  at  the  golden 
city^where  they  sang,  'holy,  holy/  " 

"How  could  I  make  you  think  of  that,  Mr.  Rever 
end?" 

"Walking  with  me  toward  the  sunrise.  Ah,  but 
the  wild  briar  would  tear  your  dress." 

"But  haven't  the  briars  torn  your  flesh?" 

He  pointed  upward.  "Ah,  and  a  wound  in  His 
service  is  balm  to  the  soul." 

"Mr.  Reverend,  a  true  woman  would  take  most  of 
the  wounds  if — " 

"If  she  were— loved?" 

"Yes,"  she  said,  and  her  face  was  pale. 

Before  her  he  drooped,  sinking  to  the  earth,  and 
-216- 


THE  GIRL  AND  THE  CHURN. 

on  his  knees  he  gently  took  her  hand.  'Toward 
woman  my  heart  has  been  dumb,  but  you  have 
given  it  a  tongue.  I  love  you.  You  dazzled  me  and 
I  was  afraid  to  speak — I  was  afraid  that  I  might  be 
worshipping  an  idol." 

"Oh,  not  an  idol.  Oh,  not  that.  No  poor  heart 
could  be  so  humble  as  mine,  Mr.  Reverend.  But 
strong  in  its  love  for  you,  it  accepts  your  love  as  a 
benediction.  Oh,  if  you  only  knew  what  I  have 
suffered—" 

"But  I  must  not  know  and  you  must  forget.  With 
me  you  must  begin  your  life  over  again." 

Upon  her  hand  he  pressed  a  kiss,  and  no  idle  eye 
was  there  in  mockery  to  gaze  upon  them  and  no 
ear  save  his  own  heard  her  when  she  said:  "And 
together  we  will  do  His  work." 

"In  the  vineyard  of  usefulness.  Ma'm,  we  will 
go  among  the  stricken  and  nurse  them." 

Gentle  mischief  sometimes  sweetens  quiet  joy. 
"Then,  you  haven't  come  to  tell  me  good-bye,"  she 
said,  and  the  light  from  her  eye  fell  upon  his  face, 
leaving  there  a  smile.  "Well  no,  not  now,"  he  re 
plied,  arising.  "But  I  had  spoken  for  passage  in 
—  217  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

the  stage  coach  and  I  must  go  now  and  tell  them 
not  to  save  the  place  for  me.  And  when  I  come 
back  we  will  go  to  the  mountain-top  and  view  from 
afar  the  field  of  our  life's  work." 

"May  I  go  with  you?" 

Now  they  were  slowly  walking  toward  the  gap  in 
the  yard  fence  which  Old  Jasper  called  the  gate. 

"The  way  is  short,  but  it  lies  over  the  creek  and 
through  the  brambles,"  he  said,  and  after  a  pause, 
looking  fondly  into  her  eyes  he  added,  out  of  his 
great  store-house  of  care  and  sympathy:  "The 
thorns  would  thirst  for  your  blood." 

"They  have  drunk  yours  and  your  thorns  shall 
be  mine." 

They  stood  at  the  gap  in  the  fence.  "Yes,"  he 
said,  "when  I  have  more  than  I  can  take  care  of. 
The  fact  is—what  shall  I  call  you?" 

"Mary,"  she  answered. 

"Mary,"  he  repeated.  "It  is  sweet  with  the  mem 
ory  of  many  a  home  and  hallowed  by  the  Christian's 
hope.  And,  Mary,  when  I  come  back  I  will  bring  a 
preacher  and  a  paper  from  the  law.  You  under 
stand?" 

—  218  — 


THE  GIRL  AND  THE  CHURN. 

"Yes,  I  understand,  and  the  understanding  is 
beautiful  and  precious."  She  stood  so  near  and  he 
was  so  lost — so  near  that  her  lips  were  close  to  his 
and  he  kissed  her  and  started  as  if  the  earth  had 
shaken  beneath  his  feet. 

"And — and  now,  Mary,  I  won't  have  to  beg  your 
pardon  when  I  call  you  by  pet  names." 

"No,  Jim." 

"And  we  will  surprise  them,  Mary." 

"Yes,  Jim." 

He  kissed  her  again  and  hastened  down  the  road. 
She  looked  after  him  until  his  head  sank  down  be 
hind  a  hill,  and  then  for  a  long  time  she  stood  there, 
leaning  upon  the  fence,  and  suddenly,  with  her  hands 
clasped,  she  cried:  "Oh,  miracles  were  wrought  in 
the  wilderness." 


—  219  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 
CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  APPOINTMENT   COMES. 

While  she  was  still  standing  there,  musing  over 
her  happiness,  Lije  Peters,  peering  about,  came  into 
the  yard.  He  cleared  his  throat  and  she  looked  at 
him,  and  moving  further  off,  she  sat  down  in  a  rock 
ing-chair  which  she  had  brought  from  the  house 
earlier  in  the  day.  With  a  show  of  respect  Peters 
took  off  his  hat. 

"Howdy  do,  ma'm?  I  don't  believe  you  an*  me 
air  very  well  acquainted." 

"Our  acquaintance  hasn't  ripened  into  friendship." 
He  laughed  and  replied:    "Well,  the  bloom  may 
be  as  putty  as  the  fruit." 

"Very  good.    I  didn't  expect  it — of  you." 
"Didn't  expect  me  at  all,  did  you?" 
"If  I  had  I  should  not  have  remained  here." 
He  cleared  his  throat.     "I  know  all  about  bees, 
but  I  didn't  know  befo'  that  a  butterfly  could  sting. 
But  I'd  ruther  be  stung  than  to  have  no  attention 
paid  to  me  at  all."    She  arose  to  go  away,  but  he 
—  220  — 


THE  APPOINTMENT  COMES. 

intercepted  her.  "Beggin'  yo'  pardon,  ma'm,  for 
what  I've  said  an*  what  I  am  about  to  say,  will  you 
let  me  talk  business  to  you  for  about  a  minit?" 

"I  know  nothing  about  business,"  she  replied. 

"But  you  know  somethin'  about  love,  don't  you? 
Putty  much  the  same  thing." 

"How  dare  you  talk  to — " 

"Now,  don't  be  fretted.  I've  got  my  own  way 
of  gittin'  at  a  p'int.  I'm  a  thorn  bush  by  the  road 
side.  The  sheep  comes  along  an'  I  pick  off  some 
of  their  wool.  An'  towards  me  there  comes  an  old 
sheep,  with  his  eyes  shet,  a  shakin'  of  his  head. 
An'  he'll  lose  all  his  wool.  But  you  could  turn  him 
aside." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  sir." 

"Starbuck  is  the  old  sheep.  You'd  better  help 
turn  him  aside.  A  word  from  you'll  do  it.  I  told 
him  I  wanted  to  borry  a  thousand  dollars.  He'll 
understand.  You  tell  him  to  lend  it  to  me." 

"I  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort,  you — " 

"If  you  don't,  you'll  be  sorry.  Jest  now  I  spoke  to 
you  about  love.  It  wan't  an  accident.  No.  An'  if 
he  don't  let  me  have  the  money,  Jim  the  preacher 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

may  be  ashamed  to  preach  ag'in.  An'  he  won't  talk 
no  mo'  honeysuckle  to  you,  nuther.  He  will  dis 
appear,  an'  yo'  heart  may  grieve,  but  yo'  jedgment 
will  be  glad." 

"You  infamous  scoundrel." 

He  bowed  to  her.  "The  scoundrel  sometimes 
tells  the  truth,  an'  when  he  do  it's  the  worst  truth 
in  the  world;  an'  if  I'm  a  scoundrel  that's  the  sort 
of  truth  I'm  a  tellin'." 

"Go  away  from  here,  you  brute." 
"All  right,  all  right.  I  have  give  you  yo'  chance, 
an'  now  I  must  have  it  out  with  the  old  sheep.  When 
I  see  you  ag'in  yo'  eyes  may  not  be  so  bright.  A 
hot  pillow,  turned  over  an'  over  in  the  night,  when 
the  rooster  crows  an'  thar  ain't  no  sleep,  ain't  good 
fur  the  eyes.  I'm  goin'  now,  an'  you  better  think  it 
over.  Good-day,  ma'm.  I  have  give  you  yo'  chance 
an'  my  conscience  is  clear." 

He  walked  off  up  the  road  and  she  was  about  to 
go  into  the  house  when  Old  Jasper  came  along, 
with  an  axe  on  his  shoulder.  Seeing  that  she  was 
disturbed,  he  inquired  if  anything  were  wrong. 


THE  APPOINTMENT  COMES. 

"Why,  that  man  Peters  was  here  a  moment  ago, 
and—" 

"Oh,  don't  pay  no  attention  to  him.  He's  a 
joker,"  said  the  old  man,  and  going  to  a  bench  near 
the  fence,  poured  water  into  a  tin  can,  went  to  the 
grind-stone,  and  upon  it  began  slowly  to  pour  a 
stream. 

Mrs.  Mayfield  stood  near,  watching  him,  but  her 
mind  reverted  to  Peters.  "But  he  says — " 

"Never  mind  what  he  says,"  the  old  fellow  broke 
in,  grinding  his  axe.  "We  all  ought  to  be  kind  to 
him."  He  examined  the  edge  of  the  axe.  "For  I 
don't  think  he's  goin'  to  live  very  long." 

"Why,  he  looks  healthy  enough." 

"Yes,  but  he's  mighty  deceivin'.  Most  of  his  men 
folks  died  when  they  was  about  his  age.  Suthin' 
the  matter  with  the  fam'ly  that  causes  'em  to  drop 
off  along  about  then." 

"Singular,  isn't  it?" 

"Mighty  curious." 

"Couldn't  the  doctors  do  anything  for  them.  Not 
that  I  care,  you  understand,  but  it's  interesting  as 


—  223  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"No,  somehow  the  doctors  was  always  called  in 
too  late.  Ma'm,  Jim  tells  me  he's  goin'  home." 

"Did  he  tell  you  just  now  when  you  must  have 
met  him  in  the  road?" 

"No.  Jest  now  when  I  met  him  he  didn't  say 
nothin',  but  he  looked  at  me  and  his  eye  was  a  hum- 
min'  of  a  tune." 

"And  when  he  comes  back,"  she  said,  half  mus 
ingly,  "he  may  tell  you  what  tune  he  was  humming." 

"Hah!" 

"Wait  till  he  comes  back." 

The  old  man,  shrewder  than  she  was  aware,  left 
off  his  work  and  at  her  looked  a  droll  inquiry.  She 
met  his  gaze.  "Ma'm,  you  don't  mean  that  with  all 
yo'  finery  you — " 

With  a  gesture  she  cut  him  short.  "Don't  talk 
that  way,  Mr.  Starbuck.  He  comes  to  me  a  religion 
typified,  and  I  would  rather  walk  over  a  stony  road 
with  him  than,  to  ride  in  a  chariot  with  any  other 
human  being." 

The  old  man  laughed  and  shook  his  head.  "Oh, 
I  know'd  it  as  soon  as  I  seed  his  eye  a  hummin'  of 

—  224  — 


THE  APPOINTMENT  COMES. 

a  tune,  an'  I  said  to  myse'f,  'at  last  the  gate  has 
been  opened  for  him/  " 

"But  please  don't  say  a  word  about  it  to  anybody, 
Mr.  Starbuck.  Let  the  result  come  as  a  surprise." 

"I  won't,  but  when  does  the — " 

"Oh,  I  mustn't  tell  you  that.  I  want  to  surprise 
you,  too." 

"All  right.  I  reckon  I'm  the  easiest  man  to  sur 
prise  you  ever  come  across." 

She  came  closer  to  him.  "Let  me  turn  for  you — 
Uncle  Jasper/' 

He  slapped  his  leg  and  laughed.  "Uncle  Jas 
per!  Now  that  do  sound  like  music,  don't  it?  No, 
you  better  not  turn  this  here  grind-stone.  You 
mout  git  splashed." 

She  took  the  crank  from  him  and  began  labori 
ously  to  turn  it.  "Down  in  Maine  where  I  came 
from  I  used  to  turn  for  the  men  when  they  ground 
their  scythes — just  for  fun." 

"Yes,  fun  for  them  that  seed  you  do  it,  I  reckon. 
Maine — Maine.  That  whar  they  uster  burn 
witches?" 

—  225  — 


-  THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Oh,  no,  they  never  burned  any  witches  in 
Maine." 

"Why,  couldn't  they  ketch  'em?" 

"Oh,  they  never  burned  any  witches  in  this  coun 
try,  Uncle  Jasper.  That's  all  a  fatile." 

The  old  man  pondered  as  if  searching  in  his  mind 
for  a  forgotten  name.  "But,"  said  he,  "they  uster 
burn  them  fellers — fellers  that  done  sorter  this 
way,"  and  he  began  to  shake  his  shoulders. 

"Oh,  you  mean  Quakers." 

"Yes,  Quakers." 

"Yes,  they  hanged  Quakers." 

"Kotch  'em  stealin'  hosses,  I  reckon." 

"No,  hanged  them  on  account  of  their  religion." 

"Whew,  ruther  hard  on  that  sort  of  doctrine." 

"Helloa,  Jasper,"  a  voice  called,  and  looking 
about  they  saw  Laz  Spencer  climbing  upon  the 
fence.  They  bade  him  good  morning,  and  sitting  on 
the  top  rail  of  the  fence  he  took  out  a  jews-harp  and 
began  to  wipe  it  on  his  coat-sleeve." 

"How  air  you  gittin'  along,  Laz?"  Old  Jasper  in 
quired. 

"Never  better." 


THE  APPOINTMENT  COMES. 

"Glad  to  hear  it.  Best  day  of  a  man's  life  is  when 
he  was  never  better.  I'll  let  that  nigger  finish  this 
job,"  he  said,  sticking  the  axe  into  a  log;  and  Mrs. 
Mayfield,  willing  enough  to  play  quits,  smiled  upon 
him  and  walked  out  to  the  gap  and  stood  looking 
down  the  road." 

"Have  a  drink  of  water,  Laz?"  Jasper  inquired, 
pointing  to  a  pail  on  the  bench." 

"No,  laid  on  a  rock  an'  got  a  drink  outen  the 
creek  as  I  come  along." 

"Wall,  this  is  fresh  water.  Wan't  fotch  from  the 
spring  mo'  than  twenty-fo'  hours  ago." 

"Don't  reckon  you  kin  tempt  me,  Jasper." 

The  old  man  took  up  the  gourd,  and  in  attempting 
to  drink,  let  the  water  pour  through  the  handle  and 
run  down  his  sleeve.  He  threw  the  vegetable  dip 
per  back  into  the  bucket  and  declared  that  a  man 
might  as  well  try  to  drink  out  of  a.  sifter. 

"Any  news  over  yo'  way,  Laz?" 

"Don't  believe  thars  anythin'  wu'th  dividin'." 

"Nobody  shot  or  cut?" 

"Let  me  see.  Reckon  you  hearn  about  Oscar 
Pryor." 

—  227  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"No,  not  sence  he  borrid  five  dollars  of  me.  What 
about  him?" 

"Went  down  in  the  bottoms  whar  folks  war  a 
leetle  too  civilized  an'  fell  in  a  well." 

"Did  they  git  him  out?" 

"Oh,  yes,  they  got  him  out  jest  in  time." 

"Jest  in  time  to  save  his  life?" 

"No,  jest  in  time  to  keep  from  sp'ilin'  the  water. 
He  drownded  all  right." 

"Ought  to  have  drownded  long  ago,"  Jasper  re 
plied.  "But  I'd  a  leetle  ruther  it  had  tuck  place 
befo'  he  got  the  five  from  me." 

"But  say,  Jasper,  come  to  think  of  it  we  did  have 
some  right  sharp  excitement  over  our  way  yistidy. 
'Lowed  thar  war  suthin'  on  my  mind.  Ricolleck  the 
hoss  the  preacher  swopped  to  Dave  Somers?" 

"The  bay  with  white  fetlocks?" 

"Yes,  thatter'n.  Wall,  Dave  tuck  him  home  an' 
put  him  in  the  stable,  an'  in  the  night  he  got  up  an' 
went  out  to  rub  him,  havin'  him  on  his  mind,  an* 
when  he  went  into  the  stable  he  found  the  hoss 
dead." 

"What,  you  don't  mean  it?" 
—  228  — 


THE  APPOINTMENT  COMES. 

"Wall,  I  don't  deceive  a  man  about  sich  a  mat 
ter.  Yes,  found  him  dead;  an'  he  roused  up  his 
neighbors  an'  they  all  come  an*  looked  at  the  hoss, 
but  he  didn't  kere  fur,  as  I  tell  you,  he  war  dead. 
An'  now  the  talk  is  that  the  preacher  known  that 
thar  war  suthin'  wrong  with  him,  an'  jest  wanted  to 
git  rid  of  him.  Dave,  you  know,  went  up  to  the 
mourner's  bench  some  time  ago  an'  got  a  right  lively 
artickle  of  religion;  but  when  his  hoss  died  he 
'lowed,  he  did,  that  he  didn't  want  no  sich  religion 
that  this  here  preacher  would  fetch  an'  he  ups  an' 
cusses,  he  does,  an'  flings  his  religion  away." 

"Wall,"  said  Jasper,  "this  here  is  news.  What 
air  they  goin'  to  do  about  it?" 

"Kain't  do  nothin',  I  reckon.  Dave  would  whup 
the  preacher,  but  the  gal  he  is  a  goin'  to  marry 
told  him  he  shouldn't.  Say,  Jasper,  I  was  on  my 
way  down  to  Smithfield,  an'  I  didn't  know  but  you 
mout  want  suthin'  fotch  from  down  thar." 

"No,  ain't  a  hurtin'  fur  nothin'  at  the  present. 
Lemme  see.  Yes,  I  want  you  to  give  a  order  to 
the  stone-cutter  for  a  tombstone  for  mammy's 
grave." 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"How  big?" 

"Oh,  'bout  three  feet  by  six." 

"Reckon  you'll  want  suthin'  cut  on  the  rock." 

"Yes.  Sot  up  mighty  nigh  all  night  a  drawin'  of 
it  off.  Got  it  right  here."  From  his  pocket  he  took 
a  piece  of  paper  and  began  to  read:  '*  'Old  Black 
Mammy,  come  here  nobody  don't  know  when  an' 
went  home  on  the  eighteenth  of  June,  1884.  Her 
skin  mout  have  been  as  dark  as  the  night  when 
thar  ain't  no  moon  an'  no  stars,  but  her  soul  is  like 
the  risin'  of  the  sun  when  thar  ain't  a  cloud  in  the 
sky.'  "  Mrs.  Mayfield  had  turned  to  listen,  and  Jas 
per  inquired  of  her:  "Will  that  do,  ma'm?" 

"Yes,  Uncle  Jasper,  it  is'  very  expressive." 

"Wall,  would  you  mind  goin'  over  it  an'  fixin'  it 
up  for  me?" 

"I  wouldn't  change  a  word  of  it,"  she  said,  and  he 
thanked  her. 

"Jasper,"  said  Laz,  "I  didn't  know  you  could 
write." 

"Wall,"  the  old  man  drawled,  "I  kain't  write  as 
putty  as  the  county  clerk,  but  I  kin  write  as  big. 
So  you  like  it,  ma'm?" 

-230- 


THE  APPOINTMENT  COMES. 

"Yes,  Uncle  Jasper." 

"Wall,"  said  he,  looking  at  his  work,  "it's  the 
truth,  an'  thar  ain't  nuthin'  skeercer  than  truth  on 
grave-yard  rocks." 

Margaret  came  out  of  the  house.    "Howdy,  Laz." 

"Ain't  runnin'  no  foot  races,  but  so  as  to  be 
about." 

"Folks  all  as  well  as  usual?" 

"Ain't  hearn  no  loud  complaint." 

"Miz  Mayfield,"  said  Margaret,  "Kintchin  fotch 
me  a  letter  from  the  post-office  this  mornin'  an'  as 
my  eyes  ain't  right  good  to-day,  I  wish  you'd  come 
in  an'  read  it  to  me." 

"Yes,  gladly." 

"Thank   you — 'specially   as   my   eyes   ain't   right 

good  this  mornin'.     Skuze  us,  Laz,"  she  said,  turn 
ing  to  go  into  the  house. 

"Help  yo'se'f,"  Laz  replied,  again  wiping  his 
Jews-harp;  and  when  the  two  women  had  gone  into 
the  house,  he  began  to  play,  and  the  old  man,  sit 
ting  now  upon  the  wood-pile,  looking  over  his  epi 
taph,  nodded  time.  Suddenly  the  musician  left  off. 

"Say,  Peters  has  got  his  app'intment." 
-231  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

The  old  man's  arms  dropped.     "Air  you  shore?'* 

"I'm  a  tellin'  you.  He's  got  it  writ  out  on  a  piece 
of  paper  that  looks  like  white  luther." 

"Wall,"  said  Jasper,  getting  up.  "I  don't  know 
of  any  man  that's  a  goin'  to  w'ar  out  his  shoes  a 
runnin'.  But  I'm  sorry.  Was  in  hopes  that  he 
couldn't  git  it.  An'  yit,  I  didn't  put  the  strings 
back  into  my  shoes." 

"I  understand.  You  don't  want  to  die  with  'em 
on.  But  I  wouldn't  give  him  any  of  the  advantage." 

"No,  Laz,  fur  the  man  that  gives  the  mad  dog 
any  of  the  advantage  is  almost  shore  to  git  bit.  An' 
I  don't  want  Jim  to  know  any  mo'  about  this  comin' 
trouble  than  he  kin  help." 

"I  reckon  not,  Jasper.  It's  sorter  noised  about 
that  he's  a  pinin'  for  the  lady  from  off  yander." 

"Yes,  caliker  is  got  him  at  last.  It's  all  right, 
though.  The  Lord  has  lit  up  brown  jeans  with  a 
smile.  Now,  here's  what  I  want  cut  on  that  rock," 
he  added,  handing  the  paper  to  Laz,  but  suddenly 
withdrawing  it,  remarked:  "Remember,  I  ain't 
lendin'  you  this." 

He  gave  the  paper  to  the  borrower,  who,  looking 


THE  APPOINTMENT  COMES. 

at  It,  turning  it  over  and  over,  replied:  "All  right. 
Don't  need  it— yit." 

"Say,  Laz,  come  over  with  me  to  the  mill.  There's 
suthin'  I  want  to  put  away." 

As  they  were  going  out  through  the  gap,  Lou 
came  running  into  the  yard. 


—  233  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 
CHAPTER  XVII. 

NOT   TO    TELL    HER   A    LIE. 

The  girl  ran  to  the  rocking-chair,  sat  down  and 
covering  her  face  with  her  hands,  uttered  what  to 
her  must  have  been  a  sad  lament:  "Oh,  she  has 
made  a  coward  out  of  me."  A  moment  later  Tom 
came,  walking  briskly. 

"Miss  Lou,"  he  said,  slowly  approaching,  "what 
made  you  run  away  from  me?  I  wanted  to  tell 
you — " 

She  sprang  to  her  feet  and  with  snapping  eyes 
exclaimed:  "What  do  you  want  to  tell  me?  Some- 
thin'  that  ain't  true.  Do  you  want  to  look  a  lie  at 
me?" 

"No,  I  want  to  tell  you  something  that  is  true. 
Do  you  know  why  I  let  that  scoundrel  Peters  insult 
me?" 

And  looking  down  she  replied:  "You  told  me 
not  to  ask  and  I  haven't?" 

"Was  it  because  you  didn't  want  to  know?" 

"Mebby  I  was  almost  dyin'  to  know,  but  you  told 
me  not  to  ask." 

—  234  — 


NOT  TO  TELL  HER  A  LIE. 

"I  didn't  kill  him  because—" 

"Not  because  you  were  afraid  to  try,"  she  broke 
in. 

"No.  It  was  because  they  told  me  that — that  you 
loved  him/' 

"What!"  she  cried,  blazing  at  him,  "I  love  that 
— that  skeer  crow!  Oh,  how  could  they  tell  you 
such  a  thing;  and  if  you  believed  it  I  am  mad  at 
you." 

This  greatly  distressed  him  and  he  was  quick  to 
reply,  "Oh,  I  didn't  believe  it  much,  you  know." 

"But  you  believed  it  strong  enough  not  to — " 

"Oh,"  he  pleaded,  "don't  play  me  like  a  fish.  Take 
the  hook  out  of  my  mouth  and  don't  make  me  flop. 
How  did  I  know  you  didn't  love  him?  Why,  the 
prettiest  girl  I  ever  saw  loved  a — a  scarecrow.  And 
I  wouldn't  harm  a  scarecrow  that  you  loved.  I  may 
be  a  scarecrow  myself — I  feel  like  one,  and  I  know 
I  must  act  like  one,  but  I  love  you  and  I  want  you 
to  be  my  wife." 

And  now  she  was  all  of  a  flutter.    "Oh,  you  love 
me?    Do  you — do  you?"  She  clasped  her  hands  and 
he  took  them  and  drew  her  toward  him. 
—  235  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Do  I?  Why,  I  love  you  till  I  haven't  got  any 
sense.  Didn't  you  see  me  out  there  in  the  rain 
yesterday?"  She  shook  her  head,  looking  down, 
hiding  her  eyes  from  him.  "Didn't  you  see  me 
there?  I  didn't  have  sense  enough  to  come  in." 

She  snatched  away  her  hands  and  stood  looking 
at  him.  "Would  you  live  a  lie,  like  the  man  that 
married  your  aunt?  Would  you?" 

"Oh,  he  was  a  sport." 

"A  'sport!'  "  she  gasped.    "What's  that?" 

"A  fool  that  thinks  he's  got  a  sure  thing  when 
he  hasn't.  A  man  who  might  risk  his  home  on  the 
turn  of  a  card.  I'm  not  that  sort  of  a  fellow.  I 
never  loved  any  girl  but  you,  and  I  never  can  love 
any  other." 

"Oh,  can  it  be  true?"  she  cried,  gazing  at  him; 
and  neither  of  them  saw  Old  Jasper,  who  at  this 
moment  came  through  the  gap.  He  halted  and 
stood  perfectly  still  looking  at  them. 

"You  know  it  is  true,"  said  Tom.  He  put  his 
hands  upon  his  breast.  "Why,  when  I  first  saw  you 
it  seemed — seemed  that  they  were  lighting  candles 

—  236  — 


NOT  TO  TELL  HER  A  LIE. 

all  around  in  here.    And  Lou,  you  must  be  my  wife. 
Don't  you  know  it  is  true?" 

"Yes,  I  know,"  she  replied,  with  her  hand  upon 
her  heart,  as  if  to  calm  it;  "yes,  I  know,  but  there  is 
somethin'  a  flutterin'  here  and  I'm  afraid  it  will  fly 
away.  But — but  I  love  you  so!" 

In  his  arms  he  seized  her  and  slowly  Old  Jasper 
came  to  them  as  they  stood,  lost  to  all  earth,  and 
about  them  he  put  his  brown  arms.  They  sprang 
apart  and  he  took  his  daughter  to  his  breast;  and 
the  boy  stood  there  waiting,  striving  to  say  some 
thing. 

"Mr.  Starbuck,  I—" 

"Looks  like  everythin'  has  been  said,"  Jasper 
broke  in;  and  then  upon  the  young  fellow  he  cast  a 
kindly  look.  "She  couldn't  hide  that  she  loved  you, 
sir." 

"I  am  thankful  for  that.  But  everything  has  not 
been  said,  Mr.  Starbuck — two  more  words  are  neces 
sary,  one  from  you  and  one  from  her  mother." 

"I  didn't  know  how  to  try  to  hide  that  I  loved 
him,"  said  Lou.    "I  didn't  want  to  try."    She  went 
over  to  Tom  and  he  put  his  arm  about  her. 
—  237  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Do  you  think  her  mother  will  object,  sir?" 

Jasper  looked  away  to  hide  the  laughter  that  had 
jumped  into  his  countenance.  "Oh,"  said  he,  "I 
reckon  she  can  be  persuaded,  and  here  she  is." 

Margaret  and  Mrs.  Mayfield  came  out  of  the 
house.  "Margaret,"  said  the  old  man,  "I  reckon 
these  young  folks  air  goin'  to  git  married." 

Margaret  held  out  her  arms  and  Lou  ran  to  her, 
and  with  her  head  on  her  mother's  bosom,  she  de 
clared  that  she  never  could  have  thought  it  so  sweet 
to  be  ashamed. 

"Suthin'  called  me  back  from  the  mill,  and  it 
was  to  see  this,"  said  the  old  man. 

Lou  turned  to  Tom.  "You  won't  love  me  any  the 
less  because  I  couldn't  hide  that  I  loved  you,  will 
you?" 

"Oh,  there  couldn't  be  any  less,  and  in  the  whole 
world  there  isn't  room  for  more,"  Tom  replied;  his 
aunt  standing  near,  looking  with  misty  eyes  upon 
him. 

"Well,"  Margaret  exclaimed,  "I  never  was  so 
surprised." 

Jasper  ducked  his  head  and  with  his  hands  behind 
-238- 


NOT  TO  TELL  HER  A  LIE. 

him  walked  off.  But  soon  he  came  back  and  re 
plied:  "No,  but  I  reckon  if  it  hadn't  happened  you'd 
a  been  a  leetle  mo'  surprised. 

She  flouted  at  him  and  said  to  Tom:  "Coin'  to 
git  married?" 

"Yes,  madam,  not  next  year,  month,  week — but 
now." 

"Now!"  exclaimed  Jasper,  with  a  clap  of  hands. 

"My  dear,"  Mrs.  Mayfield  said  to  Lou,  "you  need 
not  be  afraid  to  trust  him.  He  won't  live  a  lie." 

Tom  took  the  girl  by  the  hand.  "Come  with  me 
now,  please.  Let  us  go  where  the  spirit  boy  used  to 
play  with  you." 

"Yes.  And  now  I  know  that  all  the  time  it  was 
you — you  lived  under  the  rock.  Come  on.  We  will 
go  up  among  the  hills  an'  make  like  we  are  lost." 

And  as  they  were  walking  away,  Jasper  said  to  his 
wife:  "Margaret,  that  reminds  me  of  a  Sunday,  a 
long  time  ago." 

"Yes,  Jasper;"  and  then  she  said  to  Mrs.  May- 
field:  "But  law  me,  it  don't  take  'em  long  to  fall  in 
love  an'  git  married  these  days." 

—  239  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"No,"  Jasper  replied,  "not  with  the  help  of  a  right 
peart  woman." 

"Now,  Jasper,"  she  said,  "you  air  shorely  enough 
to  provoke  a  saint,  bein'  a  man.  But,  Miz  May- 
field,  this  has  all  come  about  so  sudden  that — " 

Jasper  snorted  and  she  scowled  at  him.  "Don't 
pay  no  attention  to  him,  Miz  Mayfield.  Yes,  so 
sudden  that  I  don't  hardly  know  what  to  say.  But 
Lou  is  a  good  child  an'  thar  ain't  but  one  pity  about 
her,  an'  that  is  she  hain't  got  much  1'arnin',  though 
she  did  go  to  school  fur  two  year  over  at  Dry  Fork." 

"She  will  learn,  Mrs.  Starbuck,  and  he  will  be 
proud  of  her." 

"I'm  so  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,  Miz  Mayfield. 
An'  you  ain't  disapp'inted  at  yo'  nephew's  choice?" 

"It  was  for  him  and  her  to  choose,  Mrs.  Starbuck, 
and  all  the  rest  of  the  world  should  be  silent." 

"But,"  Margaret  persisted,  "his  father,  the  Jedge. 
What  about  him?" 

"When  he  knows  that  all  her  people  have  been 
brave  soldiers,  he  will  call  her  his  daughter." 

"So  glad,"  said  Margaret,  and  then  Jasper  broke 
in. 

—  240  — 


TO  TELL  HER  A  LIE. 

"But  what's  the  use  of  canvassin'  now  that  all 
the  returns  air  in.  We  all  seed  how  the  thing  was 
a  driftin'  an'  thar  wan't  no  way  to  stop  it  even  if  we 
wanted  to.  That  young  feller  is  a  man.  I  am  proud 
of  him,  an'  as  Miz  Mayfield  says,  he'll  be  proud  of 
her." 

Still  Margaret  was  loth  to  leave  off.  "I'm  so 
glad  to  know  that  you  ain't  disapp'inted." 

"No  one  could  be  disappointed  in  her,  Mrs.  Star- 
buck.  She  has  a  strong  character." 

"So  glad  to  have  sich  a  estimate  from  one  that 
knows  the  world." 

"It  is  knowing  something  of  the  world  that  causes 
me  to  place  so  high  a  value  upon  her." 

"Thar,"  said  Jasper,  "thank  her  ag'in  an'  then 
we'll  begin  at  suthin'  else." 

Margaret  begged  of  Mrs.  Mayfield  that  she  would 
pay  no  attention  to  Jasper,  who  was  always  so  full 
of  his  pranks,  and  then  to  the  old  man  she  whis 
pered:  "Old  Miz  Barker  was  a  passin'  this  morn- 
in'  an'  she  'lows  that  the  app'intment  has  come. 
Have  you  fixed  everythin'  at  the  mill?" 

"No.     Laz  is  there  a  waitin'  for  me  now." 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Well,  I'll  go  over  with  you." 

They  went  away,  looking  back  and  begging  to  be 
"excused,"  and  Mrs.  Mayfield  stood  looking  down 
the  road.  After  a  time  she  went  over  by  the  fence, 
sat  down  on  a  stump  and  began  to  pluck  flowers 
from  the  vines  that  ran  along  the  rails.  Into  the 
yard  Kintchin  came,  singing;  but  when  he  discov 
ered  Mrs.  Mayfield  he  left  off  his  half-dancing  walk, 
began  to  limp,  and  approaching  her  he  said:  "Ol' 
steer  dun  kicked  me  on  de  hip." 

"I  am  sorry,  Kintchin." 

"Yas'm.  But  you  ain't  ha'f  ez  sorry  ez  I  is. 
Never  wuz  kicked  by  er  steer,  wuz  you?" 

"No,  that's  an  experience  that  hasn't  fallen  to 
me." 

"Wall,  w'en  it  do  fall  you  ain't  gwine  furgit  it. 
Jest  thought  I'd  drap  in  an'  rest  er  while,"  he  con 
tinued,  going  over  and  seating  himself  on  the  wood 
pile.  "Dat  dear  ole  mammy  lef  me  twenty  dollars." 

"Kind  old  soul,  wasn't  she?" 

"Yas'm.  An'  dar  ain't  many  folks  dat  lef  me 
twenty  dollars  w'en  da  died.  I's  had  er  good 

-242- 


WOT  TO  TELL  HER  A  LIE. 
many  wives  fust  an'  last,  but  I  ain't  neber  married 
no  sich  er  'oman  ez  dat." 

'Then  you  have  been  married  several  times,  have 
you,  Kintchin?" 

"Yas'm.  Dar  wuz  my  fust  wife  an'  my  fust  step- 
wife,  an'— " 

"Your  first  step-wife?" 

"Yas'm — stepped  inter  de  place  o'  my  fust  wife. 
My  fust  wife  wuz  Sue,  an'  she  wuz  er  good  'oman,  I 
tell  you.  But  she  liked  music  too  well.  Dar  come 
up  yere  one  dem  yaller  barbers,  an'  he  pick  er  thing 
at  her  dat  looked  sorter  like  er  banjo,  an'  she  cl'ared 
out  wid  him." 

"That  was  sad." 

"Yas'm.  An'  den  dar  wuz  Tildy.  She  wuz  mon- 
st'us  fine.  Jest  about  de  color  o'  er  new  saddle.  I 
lubbed  dat  lady." 

"What  became  of  her?" 

"Who,  Tildy?  Wall,  er  white  lady  come  up  yere 
an*  she  had  er  silk  shawl  an'  da  fooled  roun'  till  da 
'cuzed  Tildy  o'  stealin'  it  an'  da  sont  her  ter  de 
penny  tenchy." 

"What,  on  an  accusation?" 
—  243  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Wall,  da  keep  er  pesterin'  roun'  till  da  proved  it 
on  her.  Yas'm."  He  got  up  and  slowly  limped 
over  toward  her.  "An'  ain't  you  got  fifty  cents  you 
could  give  me  fur  all  dis  inflamation?  I  needs  it 
might'ly." 

"Why,  didn't  you  just  tell  me  that  mammy  left 
you  twenty  dollars?" 

"Ur — yes'm — in  her  will.  But  I  got  ter  go  an' 
sign  de  will  an'  dat'll  cost  me  fifty  cents. ' 

"That's  a  peculiar  sort  of  law." 

"Yas'm.  I  didn't  like  dat  law  myse'f  an'  I  told 
'em  ter  'peal  it,  but  da  wouldn't." 

"Well,"  she  said,  arising  and  starting  toward  the 
house,  "as  you  are  so  honest  and  industrious,  I'll 
get  it  for  you." 

He  looked  after  her  and  mused.  "No  matter 
whar  er  'oman  is  when  you  ax  her  fur  money,  she 
got  ter  go  some  whar  else  ter  git  it.  Huh,  but  deze 
innercent  ladies  is  de  sort  dat  suits  me.  I  doan  like 
deze  ladies  dat  doan  blebe  nuthin'  you  say." 

Mrs.  Mayfield  came  out  of  the  house.  "Here  it 
is,"  she  said,  giving  him  a  piece  of  silver. 

"Thankee,  ma'm,  Fs  gwine  pray  fur  you  de  fust 
—  244  — 


NOT  TO  TELL  HER  A  LIE. 

chance  I  gits,  an'  it  won't  be  long  now  dat  my 
rush  is  sorter  ober  fo'  I  does  git  er  chance.  But 
ef  you'll  jest  gib  me  er  quarter  mo'  I'll  leave  off 
ever'thin*  an'  pray  fur  you  right  now." 

"No,  that's  enough." 

"Doan  blebe  much  in  pra'r,  does  you?  Wall,  I 
hatter  make  dis  do." 

Mrs.  Mayfield  stood  at  the  gap,  gazing  down  the 
road,  and  the  old  negro  remarked  to  himself:  "Dat's 
de  way  er  lady  looks  w'en  she's  expectin'  er  man. 
Things  is  er  gwine  on  roun'  dis  place.  Dar  ain't 
been  all  dis  light  steppin'  fur  nuthin'.  Wush  I 
could  go  somewhar  an'  pick  me  up  er  chunk  o'  er 
wife.  It's  er  gittin'  erbout  time  fur  me  ter  marry 
ag'in." 

Mrs.  Mayfield  walked  down  the  road,  and  Kint- 
chin  with  an  improvised  tune  took  up  the  axe  which 
Jasper  had  stuck  into  the  log.  But  just  as  he  was 
about  to  begin  the  work  of  grinding  it,  Mose  Blake, 
shoving  a  wheelbarrow,  came  into  the  yard. 

"Whar's  S— S— S— S— Star— " 

"Talkin1  ter  me?" 

"Ye— y— y— y— yes." 

—  245  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Den  why  don't  you?" 

"I  a— a— a— am." 

"You  ain't  said  so." 

"Shut  yo'  b—b—b— black  mouth." 

"Huh,  I  could  do  dat  an'  den  talk  better  den  you 
does." 

"I  can  b — b — b — beat  you  t — t — t — talkin'." 

"Yas,  you  kin  beat  any  pusson  I  eber  seed." 

"Don't  y — y — y — you  furgit  you  a — a — a — ain't 
nuthin'  but  a  n — n — n — n — nigger." 

"Huh,  da  kin  tell  dat  by  lookin'  at  me;  but  atter 
lookin'  at  you  da  kain't  tell  whut  you  is.  Why,  you 
ain't  nuthin'.  Go  on  erway  an'  let  me  talk  ter  my- 
se'f.  You  kain't  talk." 

"Talk  better  t — t — t — t — than  you  k — k — kin.  I 
could  p — p — preach." 

"Yes,  ter  deef  folks.  Say,  you  puts  me  in  mind  o' 
er  chicken  with  de  gapes." 

"You  air  a  f— f— f— f— " 

"You  needn't  try  ter  tell  me,  I  knows  it." 

"That's  a— a— a— about  all  you  d— d— d — d— do 
know.  Mother  sent  me  atter  the  wash  k — k — k — 
kittle." 

—  246  — 


NOT  TO  TELL  HER  A  LIE. 

"She  don't  need  it  much  den.    Go  on  erway." 

"I'm  goin'  t— t— t— to  git  a  g— g— gun  an'  come 
atter  you." 

"If  you  kain't  shoot  it  off  no  better'n  you  does  yo' 
mouf  you  kain't  hurt  me  much." 

From  a  corner  of  the  fence  Mose  took  up  a  wash- 
kettle  and  put  it  upon  the  wheelbarrow.  "You'll 
b — b — b — be  dead  b — b — before  night.  Be  easier 
t — t — to  take  what  I  come  atter  than  to  try  t — t — to 
tell  'em  w — w — what  I  want."  As  he  turned  his 
wheelbarrow  about  he  saw  Lije  Peters  standing  in 
the  gap.  "L — 1 — 1 — look  out,  I'll  r — r — run  over 
you,"  and  he  lunged  forward  with  his  load,  just  miss 
ing  Peters,  who  jumping  to  one  side  cried  out: 

"Yes,  you  stuttering  pig,  if  you  can't  wheel  no 
strai'ter  than  you  can  talk." 

When  Mose  was  gone  Peters  inquired  of  Kint- 
chin:  "Whar's  Starbuck?" 

"He  wuz  out  yander  jest  now  an'  he'll  come  ez 
soon  as  he  know  you  yere.  Whut  I  tell  you?"  he 
added  as  Jasper  made  his  sudden  appearance. 

"Here,  nigger,"  said  Peters,  "go  on  away;  I  want 
to  talk  to  Starbuck." 

—  247  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

Jasper  told  the  negro  to  go  and  then  he  stood 
looking  at  Peters. 

"I  didn't  expect  to  see  you  here  ag'in  after  what 
passed  the  other  day.  Didn't  I  tell  you — " 

Peters  held  up  his  hand.  "Ricolleck  I  ain't  in  yo' 
house.  You  told  me  not  to  darken  yo'  door  ag'in, 
and  I  hain't.  Don't  overlook  that  fact.  And  I 
wouldn't  be  here,  but  my  app'intment  has  come." 

"Wall." 

"An'  I  go  on  duty  day  atter  to-morrer.  Do  you 
know  what  that  means?" 

"I  told  you  not  long  ago  what  it  mout  mean." 

"But  it  mout  not  turn  out  that  way." 

"Shot  fo'  an'  stobbed  three,"  muttered  the  old 
man,  his  mind  reverting  to  the  story  paper. 

"Starbuck,  is  that  young  feller  Elliott  any  kin  to 
Jedge  Elliott  in  Nashville?" 

"That's  for  you  to  fin'  out." 

"Wall,  I  didn't  know,  an'  I  come  mighty  nigh 
havin'  trouble  with  him  not  long  ago." 

"Yes,  an'  I  reckon  he  come  mighty  nigh  a  robbin' 
me  of  a  pleasure — when  the  time  comes." 

"It  was  about  Lou." 

-248  — 


NOT  TO  TELL  HER  A  LIE. 

"Miss  Lou,  you  viper." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right.  Starbuck,  you  ricolleck  I 
told  you  I  had  that  old-fashioned,  single-barrel  cap- 
an'-ball  pistol.  Here  it  is."  He  drew  forth  an  old 
pistol. 

"Peters,  I'd  advise  you  to  come  after  me  with  a 
mof  improved  weepin." 

"Oh,  I'll  do  that  an'  with  help  from  off  yander, 
when  the  time  comes.  I  ain't  atter  you  yit.  I  jest 
wanted  to  give  you  one  mo'  chance.  An'  when  I 
come  shore  enough,  I'll  fetch  improved  weepins. 
I  ain't  quite  in  my  official  capacity  now." 

"Yo'  app'intment  has  teached  you  big  words." 

"Yes,"  said  Peters,  tapping  the  barrel  of  the  pis 
tol,  "as  big  as  the  slug  this  thing  is  loaded  with. 
My  daddy  told  me  that  this  here  slug  went  through 
his  brother's  heart  an'  was  buried  in  a  tree.  It  was 
dug  out  an'  now  it's  here — in  this  pistol  ag'in.  Jest 
fetched  it  along  to  remind  you  of  the  past." 

"Oh,  my  ricolliction  is  good,  Peters.  But  I  don't 
ricolleck  how  you  come  by  that  old  pistol.  None 
of  yo'  folks  ever  tuck  it  away  from  any  of  mine.  I 

—  249  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

reckon  some  of  yo'  folks  stold  it  outen  the  cou't 
house." 

"That's  all  right,  Starbuck.  No  matter  how  it 
come,  it  is  here.  But  I  don't  want  no  trouble  with 
you,  an'  won't  have  none  if  you  do  the  right  an' 
easy  thing.  Raise  that  thousand  dollars  fur  me. 
You've  got  it  hid  somewhar." 

"If  I  had  a  million  I  wouldn't  give  you  a  cent." 

"Mout  change  yo'  tune  befo'  this  thing  is  over 
with." 

"Yes,"  said  Jasper,  "I  mout  whistle  a  dead 
march." 

"Not  over  me,"  Peters  replied. 

"Yes,  over  you." 

"You're  a  liar." 

Starbuck  slapped  him  in  the  face,  and  springing 
back,  Lije  cocked  the  pistol  and  raised  it  to  shoot. 

"Hold  on  a  minute — just  one  minute,"  said  Star- 
buck,  and  with  the  pistol  leveled,  Peters  stood  look 
ing  at  him. 

"Yes,  I'll  give  you  one  minute,  Starbuck,  an*  that 
is  all.  If  you  move  I'll  kill  you." 

—  250  — 


NOT  TO  TELL  HER  A  LIE. 

"If  I  do  move,  you  scoundrel,  it  will  be  to  kill  you, 
Why,  you  po'  fool — " 

"Starbuck,  any  fool  can  be  game — I  thought  I 
know'd  all  about  you,  but  I  never  know'd  befo'  that 
you  was  so  cool." 

"Cool,"  Jasper  repeated,  "I  ain't  half  as  cool  as 
you  air  keerless.  I  could  kill  you  with  that  axe  an* 
you  couldn't  help  yo'se'f.  That  pistol  won't  shoot. 
Look!  When  you  cocked  it  the  cap  fell  off." 


-251- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 
CHAPTER  XVIII. 

DOWN   THE   ROAD. 

With  his  old  pistol  useless  in  his  hand  the  ruffian 
walked  away,  shaking  his  head  and  muttering  that 
a  time  was  coming  soon.  "And  with  help  from  off 
yander,"  Jasper  heard  him  shout  from  the  road. 
"I  have  cut  down  the  tree  whar  that  bullet  lodged 
and  burnt  it  with  a  slow  fire,  and  the  fire  that's  to 
burn  another  tree,  a  scrub  oak,  may  be  slow  but  it 
is  a  comin'.  Do  you  hear  me  over  thar?" 

"A  man  has  to  be  mighty  deaf  not  to  hear  a  wolf 
howl,"  Jasper  replied,  and  took  his  way  back  to  the 
mill  where  Laz  and  Margaret  were  waiting  for  him. 

"Was  it  Peters  you  saw  goin'  into  the  yard?" 
Margaret  inquired,  and  the  old  fellow  answered: 
"Looked  mighty  like  him — fur  a  time  I  thought  it 
was,  but  my  eyes  ain't  as  good  as  they  was." 

In    the    meantime    Jim    was    fighting    his    way 

through  the  briars  and  over  the  rough  ground  of 

the  short  cut  from  the  little  county  town.     And 

when  he  reached  the  road,  he  saw  Mrs.  Mayfield 

—  252  — 


DOWN  THE  ROAD. 

coming  to  meet  him.  "The  preacher  wasn't  at 
home,"  he  said,  as  he  came  near  to  her,  "but  I  left 
word  for  him  and  he  will  be  here  soon.  Do  the 
folks  know  anything  about  it  yet?" 

"I  told  your  uncle,  but  he  seemed  already  to 
know."  She  gave  a  tender  account  of  the  scene  in 
the  yard,  of  Tom  and  Lou,  and  he  said  that  like 
his  uncle  he  had  already  known.  "Fate  got  out  of 
the  wagon  when  you  drove  up  to  the  gate,  ma'm — 
honey,"  he  said;  "and  I  am  thankful  to  the  Lord 
that  in  no  wise  was  it  cruel  onesidedness.  I  could 
n't  tell  that  Tom  loved  Lou,  but  I  knew  she  loved 
him." 

"There  is  no  need  now  of  walking  so  fast,"  she 
playfully  remarked,  and  he  checked  his  haste.  "No, 
for  I  am  not  walking  toward  you,  but  with  you. 
I  left  time  back  yonder  where  I  met  you  and  after 
this  there  can't  be  any  time,  just  a  rising  and  a  set 
ting  of  the  sun  with  time  in  a  sweet  dream  be 
tween." 

"Jim,  I  ought  to  tell  you  something  about  my 
married  life;  and  when  I  have  told  you  the  truth, 
you  may  not  hold  me  so  blameless." 
—  253  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Mary,  I  don't  date  you  back  beyond  the  time 
when  you  drove  up  to  the  gate.  I  don't  want  to 
know  anything  about  your  past.  It  didn't  include 
me." 

"Your  faith  is  simple  and  beautiful  now,  Jim,  but 
may  there  not  come  a  time  when  it  will  begin  to 
inquire — when  perhaps  I  might  fret  you?  Weari 
ness  is  a  close  critic,  Jim." 

"You  may  teach  me  many  things,  Mary,  but  not 
to  find  fault.  Look  back  to  your  home  in  the  town 
and  think  of  what  you  are  giving  up  for  me — for  a 
life  of  toil  among-  the  hills." 

She  took  hold  of  his  arm  and  drew  him  close  to 
her.  "I  am  giving  up  cold  glitter  for  warm  glow." 

They  turned  aside  to  sit  in  the  cool  shade  at  the 
water-fall,  and  there  they  found  Tom  and  Lou, 
dreaming  with  their  heads  together.  High  above 
there  had  been  a  heavy  rain  and  the  falls  were 
pouring  with  such  a  roar  that  there  was  no  talk; 
but  the  four  of  them  sat  there  on  a  great  rock,  gaz 
ing  at  the  rainbow  hanging  above  the  yellowish 
water.  But  when  they  withdrew  to  a  cove  where  it 

—  254  — 


DOWN  THE  ROAD. 

was  quiet,  Tom  told  Jim  that  he  had  put  a  boy  on  a 
horse  and  sent  him  after  a  marriage  license. 

"When  we  come  to  think,"  said  Mrs.  Mayfield, 
''it  is  all  very  hasty.  It  might  look  better  to  wait." 

'That's  what  I  wanted  to  say,"  Lou  replied.  "I 
always  thought  that  folks  had  to  make  up  some  new 
clothes  when  they  were  married —  or  befo'.  But 
here  I  am  with  hardly  any  clothes  at  all." 

"You  can  make  clothes  afterward  just  as  well 
as  before,"  said  Tom.  "I  feel  that  as  long  as  I'm 
not  married  I  belong  to  the  Governor — I  mean 
my  father,"  he  explained  to  Lou;  "but  as  soon  as 
I  am  married  I'll  be  my  own — well,  I  might  say  my 
own  boss."  Archly  Lou  looked  at  him  and  he 
added:  "Unless  you  are  to  be  my  boss.  And  you 
can,  I  tell  you  that." 

"I  have  devised  a  charming  plan,"  said  Mrs. 
Mayfield.  "We'll  all  be  married  up  there  on  the  top 
of  the  hill  among  the  vines.  Won't  that  be  ro 
mantic?  No  church,  no  hot  house  flowers,  but 
blossoms  still  alive,  with  humming  birds  sipping 
their  honey.  We'll  make  of  it  a  marriage  May 
day,  to  be  lived  over  in  after  years;  and  we'll  have 
—  255  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

a  picture  painted  of  the  scene,  nature's  altar;  and 
in  the  twilight  of  many  a  summer's  day  we'll  muse 
over  it,  growing  old." 

"Auntie,  I  accept  your  romance  now,"  Tom  re 
plied.  "You  have  infected  us  all  and  make  us  al 
most  unnatural  with  happiness." 

"But  now  we'd  better  go  to  the  house,"  Jim  sug 
gested.  "It  is  about  time  for  the  preacher  to  come 
and  we  don't  want  to  keep  him  waiting.  Ma'm, 
I—" 

"Are  you  calling  me  ma'm,  again?" 

"It  was  to  remind  myself  of  a  time  when  I  wasn't 
so  happy  and  to  make  myself  doubly  happy  now  by 
the  reminder." 

Coupling  off  and  hand  in  hand  they  walked  to 
ward  the  house,  ceremonious  beyond  naturalness 
in  acting  out  the  spirit  summoned  by  a  woman 
steeped  in  the  essences  of  high-flown  books.  "The 
trumpet,"  she  said  when  they  heard  Margaret's 
dinner  horn,  and  not  even  Tom,  who  could  have 
recalled  many  a  rakish  bout  of  a  Saturday  night 
and  many  an  unholy  laugh  in  church  of  a  Sunday, 
dared  to  smile  at  her.  "You've  caught  me  all  right. 
—  256  — 


DOWN  THE  ROAD. 

auntie,  and  I'm  strutting  like  a  bantam  cock  in  the 
spring  of  the  year." 

"But  don't  destroy  it  all  by  saying  so,"  she  re 
plied,  pressing  close  to  Jim  and  peering  round  into 
his  face. 

Jasper  and  Margaret  were  waiting  for  them,  at 
the  table;  and  again  Margaret  was  never  so  sur 
prised  as  when  she  heard  that  they  were  at  that 
moment  expecting  the  arrival  of  the  preacher.  She 
did  not  quite  approve  of  the  hill-top  marriage  plan. 
Better  would  it  have  suited  her  purpose  to  parade 
the  double  wedding  at  Dry  Fork,  to  shine  in  the 
presence  of  neighbors.  But  Jasper,  expecting 
trouble,  was  in  favor  of  the  speediest  method. 
"Miz  Mayfield  is  the  manager  of  the  whole  affair," 
said  he.  "Ma'm,  have  some  of  these  here  snap 
beans,  b'iled  with  as  brown  a  piece  of  bacon  as  you 
ever  seed.  What,  Margaret,  ain't  a  cryin'?" 

"Of  course  a  man  would  never  cry  on  an  occa 
sion  of  this  here  sort,"  she  whimpered.  "You  don't 
stop  to  think  that  our  daughter  is  a  goin'  to  leave 
us — it  don't  seem  to  make  no  diffunce  to  you." 

"Wall,  not  as  much  diffunce  as  if  she  had  loved 
—  257  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

him  an'  he  hadn't  loved  her.  Jim,  I  reckon  here's 
about  as  fine  a  piece  of  co'n  bread  as  you  ever 
smacked  yo'  mouth  on,  white  meal  ground  slow." 

Margaret's  keen  ears  heard  a  halloa  at  the  gate. 
"Thar's  the  preacher,"  she  said.  "An'  goodness 
me,  we  ain't  got  a  bite  fitten  for  a  preacher  to  eat." 
Jasper  got  up  to  meet  the  minister.  "Fetch  him  in 
anyhow,  Jasper.  'Pears  like  we  ain't  never  fixed 
for  nuthin'. 

Jasper  went  out  and  into  the  dining-room  con 
ducted  the  horse-trading  preacher.  He  shook  hands 
with  everyone,  sat  down,  and,  hungry  from  his  ride, 
began  to  help  himself.  "Just  married  a  couple  over 
in  the  Spice  Bush  neighborhood,"  said  he,  receiv 
ing  from  Jasper  a  slab  of  the  brown  bacon.  "Yes, 
the  widow  Doxey  and  old  John  Towson.  This  is 
good  meat,  brother  Starbuck — smoked  with  hick 
ory  wood,  I  reckon." 

"Yes,  hick'ry  an'  sass'frass.  I  reckon  you  pick 
up  a  good  many  weddin's  along  about  this  time  of 
the  year." 

"Well,  a  pretty  fair  sprinkling." 

"So  Miz  Doxey  finally  cotch  old  John,"  said  Jas- 
-  258  - 


DOWN  THE  ROAD. 

per  and  his  wife  declared  she  wouldn't  make  light 
of  it.  "Light  of  it?  She  weighs  two  forty  if  she 
weighs  a  ounce.  Oh,  I  knowd  John  would  git 
her  as  soon  as  I  seed  him  a  puttin'  them  green 
blinds  on  his  house.  Ma'm,  nothin'  round  here 
ketches  a  widow  woman  like  green  blinds.  Swop- 
pin*  any  hosses  lately,  Brother  Fetterson?" 

"Traded  off  a  nag  yesterday.  Didn't  know  but 
I  might  strike  a  swop  with  you  to-day." 

"Why,"  Margaret  spoke  up,  knowing  that  in  the 
combat  of  a  horse  trade,  time  would  sail  like  a  sum 
mer's  cloud  over  the  heads  of  the  two  men,  "you 
haven't  come  to  trade  stock,  but  to  marry  these 
folks." 

"Oh,  that  won't  take  long,"  Brother  Fetterson 
replied.  "Have  you  got  that  sorrel  yet,  Brother 
Starbuck?" 

"She's  out  thar  in  the  lot  now,  as  slick  as  a  mole.'* 

"This  is  to  be  a  double  wedding,"  said  Mrs.  May- 
field,  "and  on  the  hill-top,  among  the  vines." 

"A  right  pretty  idea,  Miss.  Now  this  hoss  I'm 
a  riding,  Brother  Starbuck,  is  a  single  footer,  in 

-259  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

fine  condition  and  can  run  a  quarter  with  the  best 
of  them." 

"I  hearn  that  you  swopped  tuther  day  with  Dave 
Somer's  an'  the  hoss  died  durin'  of  the  night,"  said 
Jasper.  "Is  that  so?" 

"Brother  Starbuck,"  the  preacher  replied,  look 
ing  grave,  "life  is  just  as  uncertain  among  hosses 
as  among  men.  We  know  not  the  day  nor  the  hour 
when  the  healthiest  hoss  may  be  called,  as  it  were; 
and  I  could  not  of  course  foresee  the  death  of  the 
hoss  I  swopped  to  Dave.  I  regretted  his — I  might 
say  demise,  but  it  was  no  fault  of  mine." 

Mrs.  Mayfield,  feeling  that  the  preacher  was  not 
attaching  enough  importance  to  the  coming  mar 
riages,  ventured  to  remark  that  her  brother,  who 
was  a  United  States  Judge  at  Nashville,  had  ever 
been  regarded  as  a  keen  appraiser  of  a  horse.  But 
the  fact  that  she  was  the  sister  of  so  distinguished 
a  man  did  not  at  all  startle  the  preacher.  "Glad  to 
know  it,  Miss.  I'll  go  out  and  look  at  your  hoss, 
Jasper." 

"After  the  wedding,"  Margaret  suggested. 


DOWN  THE  ROAD. 

"And  then  you  can  swop  bosses  all  day,"  said 
Jim. 

"A  good  idea  no  doubt,  Brother  Jim  Starbuck. 
And  how  are  the  people  over  in  your  highland 
district?" 

"In  need  of  the  gospel  as  they  are  here,"  Jim 
replied. 

"Yes,  here  and  everywhere,  Brother  Jim  Star- 
buck.  Your  breed  of  bosses  up  there  are  very  sure 
footed.  I  had  one  that  could  climb  a  hill-side  like 
a  goat.  Many  professions  resultant  from_the  re 
vivals  last  fall,  Brother  Jim  Starbuck?" 

"Yes,  and  a  number  of  additions  to  the  church." 

"That  is  indeed  encouraging.  I  preached  just 
beyond  there  one  conference  year,  and  aside  from 
the  death  of  a  very  valuable  boss,  I  was  quite  sue- 
cessful.  Do  you  know  a  good  brother  named  Adsit, 
big  double  log  house  on  the  left  bank  of  the  creek?" 

"Yes,  I  am  acquainted  with  him." 

"A  fair  minded  man,  is  he,  Brother  Jim.  Let  me 
have  a  colt  very  reasonable  once." 

"Shall  we  now  go  to  the  hill-top,"  Jirn  suggested. 

"Yes,  "Brother  Jim.  But  I  should  think  that  the 
-261- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

ceremony  could  as  well  be  performed  here  in  the 
house." 

'That  was  not  our  plan,"  said  Mrs.  Mayfield. 
"We  are  going  to  be  married  among  the  vines,  and 
if  such  a  temple  is  distasteful  to  you,  sir — " 

"Oh,  not  at  all,  Miss,  I  assure  you." 

"And  we  are  going  dressed  just  as  we  are,"  she 
continued. 

"Oh,  the  dressing,  Miss,  makes  no  difference  to 
me.  Well,  if  everything's  ready  we  might  as  well 
go  on." 

Among  the  vines  they  stood.  In  the  leaves  above 
them  the  birds  were  twittering.  The  sweet  air  came 
cool  from  up  the  creek.  In  the  short  grass,  stirred 
by  a  breeze,  a  harebell  seemed  tinily  ringing.  And 
down  the  hill  they  went,  brides  and  bridegrooms, 
all  wound  about  with  a  rope  of  white  clover. 


—  262  — 


OLD  FOLKS  LEFT  ALONE. 
CHAPTER  XIX. 

OLD   FOLKS   LEFT  ALONE. 

Early  the  next  morning  a  wagon  drew  up  at  the 
gate.  It  was  to  convey  the  bridal  party  to  a  little 
village  high  up  among  the  mountains.  Margaret 
was  tearful  and  Jasper  was  sad,  hiding  his  counte 
nance  as  he  fussed  with  the  harness.  Tom  insisted 
that  it  was  no  time  for  sorrow.  "We'll  be  back  in 
a  week's  time,"  said  he.  "And  even  after  I  take 
her  down  to  town  I'll  bring  her  back  here  every 
month."  But  Margaret  continued  to  sorrow.  "I 
don't  never  expect  to  see  you  ag'in,"  she  said  and 
Lou  laughed  with  tears  in  her  eyes.  "Why,  it's 
nothin'  to  be  away  from  home  a  week,  mother.  And 
just  think  how  happy  I  am."  But  there  were  more 
tears;  and  Jasper  stormed  at  a  dog  and  shook  the 
wagon  wheel  to  satisfy  himself  that  it  was  sound. 
The  driver,  as  lank  a  lout  as  ever  slept  in  a  stable, 
sat  upon  a  board  seat,  stuffing  his  greedy  mouth 
with  ginger  cake.  He  took  up  the  lines  and  clucked 
to  the  horses,  but  it  was  discovered  that  something 
—  263  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

more  remained  to  be  said  and  he  was  commanded 
to  wait. 

"Jest  hold  on  a  minit  till  I  git  sorter  uster  the 
idee,"  said  Margaret.  "I  want  to  say  somethin'  an* 
I  don't  know  what." 

Old  Jasper  put  his  arm  about  her.  "It's  in  the 
way  of  nature,  my  dear,"  he  said  and  upon  his 
shoulder  she  wept,  the  wagon  waiting,  the  driver 
munching;  and  on  the  fence  and  in  the  trees  the 
birds  that  had  been  wedding  guests  were  singing, 
having  come  down  from  the  vine-knob  to  carrol 
them  a  good-bye.  At  last  there  was  nothing  more 
to  be  said  and  the  driver  popped  his  hickory  bark 
whip  and  the  wagon  rolled  away.  Jasper  went  into 
the  house  and  sat  down,  deep  in  thought,  but  for 
a  long  time  Margaret  stood  at  the  gate,  and  the  old 
man  saw  her  sobbing  in  her  apron.  She  came  into 
the  room  when  no  longer  could  she  hear  the  wagon 
rattling  over  the  stones,  high  up  the  hill,  and  he 
said  to  her:  "In  the  way  of  nature,  my  dear,  and  you 
mustn't  grieve.  I  count  her  a  very  lucky  girl.  That 
young  feller  will  make  her  a  good  livin'  and — " 

"Well,"  Margaret  broke  in,  "she  deserves  it.  You 
—  264  — 


OLD  FOLKS  LEFT  ALONE. 

talk  as  if  he  wan't  lucky  too.  But  I  jest  want  to 
tell  you  he  is  and  you  needn't  say  he  ain't.  You 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yo'se'f  to  belittle  yo'  own 
daughter  thatter  way.  Well,  I  never.  Never  did 
I  expect  to  see  the  day  when  you'd  say  yo'  child 
wan't  worthy  of  a  young  man,  even  if  he  is  a 
jedge's  son." 

"Air  you  about  through?" 

"Oh,  don't  talk  to  me.  I'm  out  of  all  patience 
with  you.  Great  goodness  alive,  is  it  all  to  his 
credit  that  he  is  a  jedge's  son?  You  talk  like  if  she 
hadn't  found  him  nobody  else  would  a  had  her. 
And  thar  ain't  a  puttier  girl  in  all  this  here  section, 
although  she  hain't  got  as  many  clothes  as  she 
ought  to  have,  a  goin'  a  way  off  on  a  bridal  tower." 

"Gittin'  putty  nigh  the  eend." 

"Laws  a  massy.  Time  was  when  I  never  dreamed 
that  you'd  slander  yo'  own  kith  an'  kin.  An'  come 
right  from  yo'  daughter's  weddin'  an'  swopped 
hosses  with  a  preacher.  It  was  a  sin  and  a  shame. 
I  never  was  so  mortified  in  my  life.  And  then  at 
supper  he  prayed.  Just  think  of  it.  I'll  bet  any 
thing  he  cheated  you." 

—  265  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Wall  let  us  believe  not.  The  next  mornin' 
after  standin'  all  night,  the  hoss  I  let  him  have  will 
show  his  true  worth.  He's  got  a  spavin,  as  you 
know,  an'  when  he  leads  him  out  of  the  stable  a 
j'int  in  his  right  leg'll  pop  like  a  pipe  stem  broke." 

"Now  Jasper  Starbuck,  is  it  possible  that  you  put 
off  that  spavined  hoss  on  Brother  Fetterson?  You 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yo'se'f.  Ain't  you  got  no 
respect  at  all  for  the  gospel?" 

"Wall,  not  so  powerful  much  respect  for  a  gospel 
that  always  wants  to  ride  a  fine  hoss  at  another's 
expense.  Jest  thought  I'd  1'arn  him  a  lesson. 
Come  out  an'  let's  look  at  my  new  hoss." 

They  went  out  to  the  stable,  and  when  Jasper 
attempted  to  lead  forth  the  horse,  the  animal 
cringed  and  held  back,  and  in  his  eye  there  was  an 
expresion  of  pain,  for  in  truth  he  was  so  badly 
spavined  that  he  had  to  hobble  on  three  legs. 

"Ah,  hah,  that's  what  you  git  for  tryin'  to  cheat 
the  gospel,"  said  Margaret.  "And  you  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  yo'se'f,  an'  he  a  preacher  at  that — 
preached  the  loveliest  funeral  sermon  over  old  Aunt 
Polly  Myer  I  ever  heard  in  my  life." 
—  266  — 


OLD  FOLKS  LEFT  ALONE. 

For  a  time  old  Jasper  was  silent.  His  wife  asked 
him  what  he  intended  to  do.  "Wall,"  said  he,  "be 
lieve  I'll  knock  this  critter  in  the  head,  skin  him, 
take  a  hind  quarter  over  to  that  preacher's  house 
and  make  him  eat  it  raw." 

"You'll  do  nothin'  of  the  sort,  an*  yo'  daughter 
jest  married,  too.  I'm  sorry,  Jasper,  that  I  said 
what  I  did  a  while  ago.  Yes,  Lou  is  lucky — almost 
as  lucky,  Jasper,  as  I  was  when  you  asked  me  to  be 
yo'  wife." 

"I'd  ruther  you'd  scold  me  than  to  talk  thatter 
way,  Margaret.  You  know  I  can't  stand  it,  an' 
please  don't.  Helloa,  who's  this  a  comin'?" 

It  was  the  post-master,  who,  ripping  open  many 
a  man's  letter  could  read  it  off  just  like  print.  He 
shook  hands  with  Jasper  and  Margaret  and  said 
that  he  had  several  letters  for  the  young  fellow  and 
the  good-looking  woman  from  away  off.  When 
Jasper  gave  him  an  account  of  the  wedding  and 
told  him  that  the  brides  and  the  bridegrooms  were 
gone,  he  said:  "Wall,  we  jest  as  wall  open  the  let 
ters  an'  see  if  we  kin  find  out  what's  in  'em." 

Margaret  fluttered  at  him.  "You'll  do  nothin'  of 
—  267- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

the  sort.    Jest  leave  'em  with  me  and  I'll  see  that 
they  air  give  over  all  right." 

"Wall,  ma'm,  no  harm  did,"  he  said  handing  her 
the  letters;  and  then  to  Jasper  he  said:  "Brother 
Fetterson  come  a  ridin'  by  my  house  late  yistidy 
an'  wanted  to  swop  hosses  with  me.  Had  a  five 
year  old  that  I  raised  myse'f,  a  little  under  size  but 
as  tough  as  dried  beef;  so  I  swopped  for  a  mighty 
likely  nag." 

"Have  you  looked  at  yo'  swop  to-day?" 

"Yes,  seed  him  a  standin'  out  in  the  lot." 

"Didn't  see  him  walk,  I  reckon." 

"No,  was  a  tradin'  licker  for  hounds  at  the  time 
an'  didn't  stir  him  up;  an'  when  I  come  away  jest 
now  he  was  off  in  the  pasture  somewhar.  Didn't 
know  but  you  mout  want  him." 

"Ah,  hah,  an*  in  the  hope  that  I  do  I  reckon 
you've  got  a  nigger  astradle  of  him  stirrin'  the  spav 
in  outen  his  j'int,  hain't  you?" 

"Wall,  reckon  I  better  bid  you  good  day,"  said 
the  post-master,  turning  to  go,  and  as  he  did  old 
Jasper's  laughter  and  Margaret's  contempt  fol 
lowed  him.  "Got  cheated  hisse'f  an*  now  he  wants 
to  come  over  an*  cheat  you,"  she  said. 
—  268  — 


OLD  FOLKS  LEFT  ALONE. 

"Yes,"  the  old  man  replied,  "but  tain't  no  mo' 
than  natral.  I  don't  hold  it  much  ag'in  a  man 
when  he  tries  to  cheat  me.  It's  the  old  Adam  a 
b'ilin'  up  in  him." 

"It  didn't  uster  be  thatter  way  in  the  good  old 
times,"  she  remarked,  and  scratching  his  head  he 
replied:  "Yes,  it  did,  or  worse.  Away  back  they'd 
knock  you  on  the  head  or  stick  a  knife  in  you  an' 
take  what  you  had.  Now  they  cheat  you  without 
knockin'  you  down,  an'  that  is  a  improvement." 

He  was  becoming  too  philosophical  to  suit  Mar 
garet,  and  she  told  him  that  he  did  not  seem  to  re 
alize  the  loss  of  his  daughter.  "Don't  I?  Wall,  jest 
say  the  word  an'  I'll  set  down  on  a  stump  an'  cry." 

"Yes,  but  you  wouldn't  cry  if  it  was  me  that  was 
gone.  Oh,  anybody's  goin'  would  put  you  out  mo* 
than  mine,  an'  you  was  jest  achin'  for  a  chance  to 
show  me." 

"Then  if  you  have  give  me  the  chance  I  must 
thank  you  for  bein'  so  accommodatin'.  But  I  wish 
you  wouldn't  worry  me  now,  Margaret.  In  one 
respeck  the  goin'  away  of  the  folks  was  a  blessin' 
fur  the  trouble  that  has  been  a  threatenin'  for  some 
time  is  shorely  a  comin.'  Don't  nag  me." 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Do  I  bother  you,  Jasper,  an'  trouble  a  comin' 
too?  Well,  I  won't.  I  wonder  if  I  ain't  as  mean  as 
I  can  be." 

"No,  you're  all  right.  An'  it  must  be  me  that's 
"as  mean  as  a  old  dog  a  layin'  in  the  corner  of  the 
fence  with  a  bone.  If  I  know'd  how  I'd  go  an'  meet 
that  trouble.  Thar  ain't  nuthin'  much  wuss  then 
to  set  down  an'  wait  fur  it  to  come  sore-footed  along 
the  road,  a  lookin'  fur  you." 

"But  you  won't  do  nuthin'  outen  the  way, will  you 
Jasper?" 

"Nuthin'.  I've  shown  all  along  that  I  was  try- 
in'  to  keep  out  of  a  diffikilty.  Wall,  I'll  walk  on 
around  the  place — by  myse'f,  Margaret,  fur  I  want 
to  think." 

He  went  slowly  away,  changing  his  course  from 
time  to  time  as  he  looked  back  and  saw  that  she 
was  watching  him;  and  when  she  went  into  the 
house  he  walked  briskly  toward  a  tree  down  be 
neath  a  hill,  and  here  he  sat  down,  with  his  hat  off. 
At  his  feet  was  a  grave,  trimmed  with  muscle  shells 
brought  from  the  creek,  and  shading  the  stone  at 
the  head  was  a  rose-bush,  in  bloom. 
—  270  — 


MET  IT  IN  THE  ROAD. 
CHAPTER  XX. 

MET  IT  IN   THE  ROAD. 

Long  he  sat  there  meditating  over  something 
precious  as  one  does  expecting  trouble ;  and  arising 
he  walked  rapidly  to  the  gulch  leading  to  his  still 
house.  But,  reaching  there,  no  moss-covered  logs 
greeted  his  eye.  There  was  a  smoldering  fire,  with 
diminutive  whirlpools  of  white  ashes.  He  wiped 
his  brow  and  upon  a  stone  he  sat  down.  The  law 
had  come  with  its  torch,  and  for  a  long  time  his 
face  was  hard  and  grim.  An  hour  must  have  passed, 
and  then  with  an  air  of  gentleness  as  one  resigned 
to  punishment,  he  went  to  a  rock,  the  rock  under 
which  the  spirit  boy  had  dwelt,  and  reaching  be 
neath  it  drew  forth  a  Winchester  rifle. 

"I'll  pump  out  these  here  brass  temptations,"  he 
said,  throwing  out  the  cartridges  and  slowly,  one 
by  one,  dropped  them  into  the  rivulet.  Then,  break- 
ink  the  gun  across  the  rock,  he  slowly  started  tow 
ard  home. 

Reaching  the  road,  he  stood  looking  up  and  down 
—  271  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

the  rugged  highway  over  which  Old  Jackson's  car 
riage  had  bumped  and  rattled,  over  which  long  be 
fore  the  days  of  the  railroad  dry-goods  and  hard 
ware  had  been  transported  from  Philadelphia  to 
Nashville.  He  did  not  stand  *  there  long  alone. 
From  the  bushes  came  a  loud  command — "Throw 
up  your  hands" — and  the  government's  guns  were 
pointed  at  his  breast.  He  obeyed  and  three  men 
came  forward  to  search  him,  and  just  then  came  the 
roar  of  Peters.  "Why  didn't  you  shoot  the  scoun 
drel!"  Past  the  men  he  rushed  with  a  knife,  and 
Old  Jasper,  leaping  in  the  air,  struck  him  in  the 
face  with  his  iron  fist  and  he  lay  senseless  and 
bleeding  on  the  ground. 

One  of  the  deputies  threw  up  his  gun  to  shoot, 
but  the  officer  in  command  seized  the  weapon  and 
wrested  it  from  his  hands. 

"You  wolf,  would  you  shoot  a  brave  old  man? 
He  respects  the  law  more  than  you — and  a  hundred 
per  cent,  more  than  this  villain.  I  wish  he  had 
broken  his  neck.  Here,  Nick,"  he  added,  speaking 
to  his  other  attendant,  "go  up  the  hill  to  where 
Pagett  has  the  wagon,  bring  it  here  and  take  this 
—  272  — 


MET  IT  IN  THE  ROAD. 

half-dead  hulk  to  his  home.  Then  drive  over  to 
Starbuck's,  and  I  will  be  there  with  the  prisoner. 
You  go  with  me,"  he  continued,  speaking  to  the 
deputy  whom  he  had  disarmed.  "Here,  take  your 
gun  and  remember  that  Uncle  Sam  isn't  a  murderer. 
Bring  the  hand-cuffs." 

Old  Starbuck's  face  broke  into  many  a  seam  and 
then  grew  tight.  "Mister,"  he  pleaded,  "as  an  old 
soldier  let  me  beg  of  you  not  to  put  them  criminal 
things  on  me.  If  you  must,  wait  till  we  drive  away 
from  the  house.  My  wife  mustn't  see  them.  Let 
me  tell  you  suthin'.  Down  the  hill  yander  under 
a  tree  there's  a  grave  an'  in  it  the  most  precious 
dust  human  flesh  ever  withered  into.  Drag  me 
there  an'  I  will  put  my  hand  on  that  grave  an'  sw'ar 
that  I  won't  attempt  to  git  away." 

"Nick,"  said  the  commandant,  "take  the  hand 
cuffs  along  and  throw  them  under  the  wagon  seat. 
We  won't  need  them." 

"I  thank  you,  sir,"  replied  Jasper.  "Now  we  will 
go  to  the  house,  an'  what  I  say  to  that  po'  woman 
down  there  you  must  stand  to.  This  way,  please." 

Margaret  was  hanging  out  clothes  when  into  the 
—  273  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

yard  the  two  officers  came,  Jasper  walking  between 
them.  Upon  the  ground  she  dropped  a  sheet  and 
came  running  toward  them. 

'There  now,  dear,"  said  Jasper,  "don't  be  skeered. 
These  men  only  want  me  to  go  down  to  Nashville 
with  them  to  give  testimony  at  a  investigation.  I 
ain't  a  prisoner — don't  you  see  I  ain't  got  no  hand 
cuffs  on?  Gentlemen,  come  in  an'  we'll  have  a  bite 
to  eat  ag'in  the  wagon  comes.  Don't  put  yo'se'f  to 
no  trouble,  Margaret.  'Most  anythin'  will  do." 

"Oh,"  she  began  to  moan,  wringing  her  hands, 
"they  air  goin'  to  hang  you.  It's  all  Lije  Peters' 
work,  an'  you  ought  to  have  killed  him,  for  the  Lord 
knows  he's  give  you  plenty  cause.  Where  is  the 
scoundrel?" 

"Who,  Lije?  Why,  he  went  over  home;  don't 
think  he's  a  goin'  down  with  us — we  don't  need 
him.  Now,  jest  set  us  out  some  of  them  cold  snap 
beans  an'  a  hunk  of  co'n  bread,  fur  the  wagon  will 
be  here  putty  soon." 

"Jasper,"  she  said,  blocking  the  way  into  the 
house,  "your  air  deceivin'  of  me." 

He  laughed  and  replied :  "But  even  that  wouldn't 
-274- 


MET  IT  IN  THE  ROAD. 

be  half  as  bad  as  for  folks  to  go  away  an'  tell  it 
about  that  you  wouldn't  give  a  couple  oi, strangers 
nuthin'  to  eat." 

"That's  true,"  she  admitted,  leading  the  way  into 
the  house.  "I'll  fry  a  couple  of  chickens." 

"Madam,"  said  the  commanding  officer,  "we  are 
much  obliged,  but  we'll  not  have  time." 

"Yes,  you  will,"  she  insisted.  "I'm  not  goin'  to 
have  you  go  down  there  among  all  them  gover'ment 
folks  a  tellin'  that  I  didn't  know  how  to  treat  any 
body  in  my  house.  You  air  jest  achin'  fur  that 
opportunity,  but  I'll  see  that  you  don't  git  it.  Now 
you  set  down  here  an'  wait." 

"You  may  riprisent  the  law,"  said  Jasper  to  the 
officers,  "but  she  stands  for  suthin'  that's  higher 
than  all  law — woman,  an'  I  reckon  you'll  have  to 
knock  under." 

And  they  did,  waiting  patiently  for  Margaret  as 
she  bestirred  herself  in  the  kitchen;  and  when  they 
went  in  and  viewed  the  neatness  of  the  meal,  they 
thanked  her  and  fell  to  with  the  appetite  of  soldiers. 
They  had  eaten  and  were  thanking  her  when  they 
heard  the  wagon  rumbling  down  the  hill.  Margaret 
—  275  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

began  to  whimper,  but  the  old  man  laughed  at  her; 
and  when  the  two  men  respectfully  turned  away  to 
give  the  prisoner  and  his  wife  a  word  together,  he 
said  to  her: 

"For  a  long  time,  as  you  know,  this  thing  has 
been  a  hangin'  over  me,  like  a  cloud  ready  to  shoot 
out  its  lightenin',  an'  I  am  thankful  that  it's  about 
over  with.  You  stay  here  an'  be  brave,  an'  I'll  be 
back  all  right.  Send  word  by  somebody  to  Old  Miz 
Barker,  an'  she'll  be  tickled  to  come  an'  stay  with 
you  an'  talk  till  she  makes  you  feel  that  they  air 
goin'  to  hang  me." 

"If  you  was  a  goin'  to  be  hung,  Jasper,  you'd  fret 
me  with  it.  I  don't  believe  there's  harm  in  these 
here  men.  They  didn't  hand-cuff  you,  that's  a  fact. 
An'  jest  see  how  they  eat!  I  ain't  afeared  of  no  man 
that  eats  well  at  my  table.  So,  now  you  go  on  an' 
do  the  best  you  kin,  an'  don't  worry  about  me." 

He  put  his  arms  about  her  and  kissed  her  on  the 
forehead,  and  even  when  it  was  announced  that  the 
wagon  was  waiting,  she  did  not  waver,  but  bravely 
stood  to  her  determination. 

The  wagon  drove  off  and  Margaret  lingered  in 
the  door,  gazing;  but  Jasper  did  not  look  back,  and 
—  276  — 


MET  IT  IN  THE  ROAD. 

so,  over  the  hill  he  passed  from  her  sight,  as  all 
things  else  had  passed,  for  in  the  blindness  of  her 
tears  it  was  as  if  dark  night  had  fallen.  She  turned 
about  and  in  her  ears  his  words  rang,  and  again 
strong-set  to  be  brave,  |he  misty  night  was  winked 
away.  Hearing  the  hum  of  the  old  negro's  tuneful 
spirit,  she  called  him  and  he  came  to  the  door. 

"Kintchin,  they  have  taken  Jasper." 

"Yas'm,  an'  da've  tuck  Lije  Peters,  too." 

"Why,  Jasper  said  he  wasn't  goinV 

"He  ain't — he's  gone.  I  was  a  hidin*  in  de 
bushes  an'  I  seed  Peters  wid  his  knife,  an*  I  seed  er 
man  way  up  an'  den  er  man  way  down — wid  blood 
spurtin'  up.  An'  da  tuck  him  home  in  er  wagin;  an' 
de  folks  dat  wan't  right  well  'quainted  wid  him  befo' 
ain't  gwine  know  him  now,  fur  he  ain't  got  no  mo* 
count'nence  den  er  stewed  punkin.  I  neber  seed 
sich  er  lick  in  my  life." 

"Oh,  I'm  glad,"  she  cried,  clapping  her  hands. 

"Yas'm,  an'  I  wallered  dar  like  er  hot  hog  in 
wet  leaves,  tickled  mighty  nigh  ter  death ;  an'  den  I 
run  off  caze  da  mout  want  me  ter  go  ez  er  witness — • 
an*  mo'n  dat,  da  might  want  ter  sen'  me  ter  de  pen- 
nytenchy  caze  I  grind  de  co'n." 
—  277  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

The  last  word  alarmed  her.  "Do  you  think  they 
will  send  him  there?  Do  you?" 

"Oh,  no'm,  I  doan  think  dat.  He'll  git  out  all 
right  caze  he's  er  white  man  while  Fs  er  nigger,  an' 
nuthin'  tickel  de  white  folks  mo'  den  ter  send  er  nig 
ger  ter  de  pen." 

"Well,  I  want  you  to  go  over  an*  tell  Old  Miz 
Barker  to  come  an*  stay  with  me;  an'  you  better 
put  Laz  or  Mose  on  a  hoss  an'  let  him  go  as  near 
as  he  kin  an'  lissun  for  news." 

"Oh,  dem  two  boys  gwine  git  all  de  news  da 
wants,  ma'm,  Er  man  dat  wuz  over  ter  de  Peter's 
house  say  da  gwine  take  'em  erlong  as  witnesses, 
an'  dat's  whut  skeered  me.  I's  mighty  glad  ter  see 
you  ain't  takin'  on  no  wus  den  you  is.  I  wuz  er- 
feared  dat  you  gwine  ter  holler  like  er  devil-skeered 
lady  at  er  camp-meetin'." 

"Kintchin,  I  have  put  my  faith  in  the  Lord/' 

"Yas'm,  dat's  whut  I  done — 'bout  ha'f  my  faif  in 
de  Lord  an'  tuther  ha'f  in  my  laigs.  An'  now  I 
gwine  pitch  in  ter  work  like  puttin'  out  wild  fire. 
Yas'm,  I  is.  Dat's  de  way  I  gwine  'spress  my 
sympathy." 

-278- 


INTO  THE  WORLD  BEYOND  THE  HILLS. 
CHAPTER  XXL 

INTO    THE   WORLD    BEYOND    THE    HILLS. 

"You  are  a  wise  man,"  said  the  commanding  of 
ficer  as  the  wagon  toiled  along.  "You  don't  begin 
to  plead  your  innocence." 

"Maybe  I  haven't  any.    What  is  your  name?" 

"Foster." 

"It  may  come  my  way  to  do  you  a  favor,  Mr. 
Foster.  You  have  been  kind  to  me.  But  why  do 
we  turn  up  here?" 

"To  pick  up  one  Laz  Spencer,  witness." 

"One  Laz  Spencer,"  mused  the  old  man.  "It 
would  be  a  tug  of  nature  to  have  two.  But  I'm 
sorry  you  are  goin'  to  take  him.  Let  him  go  and 
I'll  agree  to  deliver  the  testimony  expected  of  him." 

"No,  that  can't  be.    We  have  our  orders." 

Out  by  the  fence  and  with  laborious  stroke  Laz 
was  cutting  wood.  Leaving  off  his  work  as  the 
wagon  drew  near  he  gazed  with  hand-shaded  eye, 
and  recognizing  Jasper,  threw  down  his  axe  and 
began  to  scramble  over  the  fence,  but  one  of  the 
men  fired  a  shot  to  scare  him  and  he  dropped  back, 
—  279  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

took  off  his  hat,  scratched  his  head  and  remarked: 
"Sorter  'pears  like  you  got  me.  Helloa,  Jasper. 
Didn't  know  folks  war  a  comin'  around  a  takin'  you 
a  ridin'." 

"Get  up  into  the  wagon/'  Foster  commanded. 

"Yes,  that's  what  I  'lowed  I'd  do.  But  let  me  go 
into  the  house  an'  put  on  some  more  duds  if  you 
air  goin'  to  take  me  down  into  society." 

"Go  with  him,  Nick,"  said  Foster,  and  the  deputy 
leaped  to  the  ground. 

Old  Mrs.  Spencer  came  to  the  door  and  with  her 
tangish  tongue  larrupped  the  men,  called  them  cow 
ards,  dogs;  and  appealing  to  Jasper  asked  why  he 
didn't  kill  them  as  his  forefathers  would  have  done. 
She  swore  that  all  spirit  had  gone  out  of  the  country. 

"I've  moulded  bullets  to  kill  better  men  than 
you,"  she  exclaimed.  "Not  one  of  you  is  worth  an 
ounce  of  lead;  an'  you  tell  them  government  fellers 
down  there  that  thinks  themselves  so  smart  that  if 
they  tetch  a  hair  on  my  boy's  head,  I'll  come  down 
there  and  murder  the  whole  kit  an'  b'ilin'  of  them. 
Go  on  now,  Laz,  an'  show  'em  that  you  ain't 
afeared." 

—  280  — 


INTO  THE  WORLD  BEYOND  THE  HILLS. 

"Got  rid  of  her  easy/'  said  Foster,  when  the  old 
woman  turned  back  into  the  house;  and  Laz,  over 
hearing  him  as  he  climbed  into  the  wagon  drawled 
out  a  reply: 

"Don't  take  long  for  anybody  to  git  rid  of  her." 

She  waved  him  a  good-bye  from  the  window,  and 
humped  upon  a  seat  beside  Jasper,  Laz  was  silent 
for  some  time,  and  then  he  inquired  if  there  were 
any  news  stirring. 

"No.    Anythin'  goin'  on  round  here?" 

"Nothin'  wu'th  dividin'  'cept  Mose  Blake  fell  into 
the  river  yistidy  an'  was  drownded." 

"What,  you  don't  tell  me  so?"  the  old  man  ex 
claimed, 

"Yes,  couldn't  swim  a  lick  atter  he  struck  the 
water  an  thar  wan't  no  use  in  tryin'  befo'  he  struck." 

"Powerful  sorry  to  hear  it,"  said  Jasper.  "Good 
feller — worst  habit  of  his  was  always  tryin'  to  talk 
when  he  couldn't." 

"Yep.    But  he  ain't  tryin'  of  it  now." 

"I  am  also  sorry  he's  dead,"  said  Foster.  "We 
were  going  to  take  him  down  to  town  with  us." 

"No  use  to  take  him  now,"  Laz  replied;  and  a 
—  281  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

silence  fell,  broken  only  when  they  turned  back  into 
the  highway,  when  the  lout  of  a  driver,  impressed  in 
the  neighborhood,  remarked  to  Laz: 

"I  reckon  you  air  as  about  as  big  a  liar  as  they  kin 
set  up.  Here  comes  Mose  Blake  now." 

"Hah!"  exclaimed  Foster.  "A  good  backwoods 
trick.  Round  him  up,  boys." 

The  stutterer  was  dressed  in  his  best,  on  his  way 
to  pay  stammering  court  to  a  girl.  He  strove  to 
explain  that  he  couldn't  go  with  them,  but  the  of 
ficers  laughed  at  his  attempts  to  talk,  compelled  him 
to  get  in,  and  drove  on. 

At  night  they  camped  near  a  spring,  beneath  a 
walnut  tree,  the  officers  standing  turn  about  while 
the  prisoners  slept;  and  early  the  next  morning  they 
resumed  their  rumbling  journey. 

As  they  were  now  out  of  the  neighborhood  range 
of  the  two  boys,  everything  began  to  possess  a  keen 
interest  for  them,  the  houses,  cattle  and  even  the 
dogs  that  ran  along  the  yard  fences  to  bark  at  the 
wagon.  Just  before  sunset  they  saw  from  afar  the 
capitol  dome,  the  mausoleum  of  Stricklin,  who  built 
many  state  houses,  constructing  in  each  one  a  tomb 
-282- 


INTO  THE  WORLD  BEYOND  THE  HILLS. 

for  himself.  Years  had  passed  since  Jasper,  a  battle- 
smoked  and  bleeding  soldier,  had  trod  up  to  that 
lofty  pile  of  rock  to  receive  his  discharge  from  the 
ranks;  and  desolate,  with  no  drum  and  no  fife  to 
march  back  to  his  wretched  home.  To  him  the 
scene  was  heart-heavy  with  memories,  but  to  the 
boys  it  was  the  first  glimpse  of  that  great  and  myste 
rious  life  lying  far  beyond  their  native  hills. 

"I  reckon  the  man  that  lives  in  thar  could  go  to 
a  sale  up  whar  we  live  an'  buy  every  wagin  an'  team 
on  the  place,"  said  Laz,  pointing  toward  the  fading 
state-house,  and  Mose  replied: 

"Reckon  h— h— h— he  could  t— t— t— talk  all  day 
without  a  h — h — hitch." 

"Whar  do  we  sleep  to-night,  with  some  of  the 
neighbors?"  Laz  inquired,  and  Foster  laughed. 

"You  sleep,"  said  he,  with  an  old  joke,  "in  a  house 
that  will  keep  the  dogs  from  coming  in  and  biting 
you." 

"You  mean  the  jail?" 

"Yes,  that's  what  I  mean.  We'll  have  to  keep  you 
close  till  we  get  through  with  you." 

"Is  that  the  law?" 

—  283  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Yes,  as  we  understand  it." 

"Wall,  then,  I  may  not  have  to  shoot  you  the 
fust  time  I  meet  you  in  the  big  road.  Got  a  good 
artickle  of  pie  thar  in  the  kitchin?" 

"You  shall  have  all  the  pie  you  want." 

Then  Mose  began:  "Ef  t—t—t— that's  the  case 
you  m — m — m — mout  drive  a  1 — 1 — little  faster.  An' 
p — p — p — pound  cake?" 

"Yes,  you  may  have  some  of  that,  too." 

"Then  I'm  g— g— g— glad  I  c— c— come.  Never 
had  as  m — m — much  p — p — pound  cake  as  I  co — 
could  eat  b — b — but  once,  an'  then  I  staid  all  night 
with  a  feller  w — w — w — when  his  mammy  w — w — 
wan't  at  home." 

"Am  I  to  be  locked  up?"  the  old  man  asked. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Starbuck." 

The  old  fellow  groaned  and  in  the  dusk  shrank 
down,  little  in  his  humiliation. 

"Sometimes,"  he  said,  "folks  have  to  stay  in  there 
a  good  while  before  they  air  fotch  to  trial.  Do  you 
think  you  kin  fix  it  so  they  kin  have  it  over  with 
my  case  as  soon  as  possible?" 

"Yes,  we'll  try  to  rush  you  through." 
—  284  — 


INTO  THE  WORLD  BEYOND  THE  HILLS. 

"Through  to  where — to  where?"  the  old  man 
muttered  to  himself. 

They  passed  a  theatre  as  the  audience  was  pour 
ing  out,  from  under  the  Hamlet  spell  of  Booth,  and 
Laz  remarked:  "Feller  that  preached  in  thar  to 
night  must  be  as  long-winded  as  our  man  Fetter- 
son;  but  I'll  bet  Old  Fetter  could  outswop  him 
in  a  hoss  trade." 

"That's  a  theatre,"  Foster  informed  him,  and  after 
musing  for  a  time  he  said : 

"Place  whar  they  swollow  knives,  I  reckon.  Seed 
a  feller  do  that  at  a  school-house  one  night,  an'  I 
thought  he'd  killed  hisse'f,  but  he  spit  it  out  jest 
like  a  stick  of  molasses  candy.  Wall,  suh,  I  never 
seed  as  many  lanterns  hung  up  befo'.  An'  I  want  to 
tell  you  they've  got  good  roads  through  this  place. 
What's  that  feller  doin'  over  thar  with  that  crowd 
about  him?" 

"Preaching,"  Foster  answered. 

"Wall,  he  couldn't  call  up  mourners — the  wagins 
would  run  over  'em.  What  do  you  think  of  all  this, 
Jasper?" 

—  285  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Who,  me?"  the  old  man  replied  as  if  startled  out 
of  a  dream,  "I  wasn't  thinkin'  of  it — didn't  see  it." 

"I  don't  reckon/'  said  Laz,  "that  all  these  folks 
knows  we  air  goin'  to  jail." 

Old  Jasper  shook  as  if  with  a  chill.    "We  know  it, 
an'  that's  enough,"  he  replied. 

The  wagon,  directed  by  Foster,  turned  into  a 
darker  street,  into  an  alley,  and  drew  up  in  front 
of  a  building  black  in  the  dusk.  The  old  man's 
legs  were  so  stiffened  that  they  had  to  help  him  out 
and  rheumatically  he  walked  through  the  portals  of 
stone-walled  disgrace.  Into  a  cell  they  turned  him, 
and  when  the  bolt  grated,  he  leaped  from  the  rock 
beneath  his  feet,  leaped  as  he  had  when  he  struck 
Peters;  and  then  into  a  corner  he  sank  with  a  groan. 
The  two  boys  were  given  the  liberty  of  a  long 
corridor,  and  up  and  down  they  walked,  light  of 
foot,  in  reverence  for  the  dejected  man  behind  the 
bars. 


CAME  TO  WEEP. 
CHAPTER  XXII. 

CAME  TO   WEEP. 

Old  Mrs.  Barker,  true  to  instinct,  hastened  to  put 
on  her  saddest  bonnet,  kept  in  an  old  chest  at  the 
demand  of  funerals,  and  with  all  speed  set  out  for 
the  afflicted  home.  Margaret  was  feeding  the  chick 
ens  when  this  consoling  stimulator  of  grief  arrived, 
and  what  little  sun  was  left,  immediately  went  down. 

Beneath  the  mantle-piece  there  wa,c  *:o  blaze,  the 
•weather  being  hot,  so  they  could  not  sit  down  "and 
weep  the  fire  out,"  but  they  could  hover  over  old 
ashes  and  weep  them  wet.  The  real  griefs  in  old 
Mrs.  Barker's  life  had  been  but  few.  It  was  a 
mercy-shaft  that  had  shot  Old  Barker  down;  rheu 
matic  cripple,  he  had  beaten  her  with  his  crutch, 
and  at  his  death  she  could  not  from  her  rebellious 
eye  wring  out  a  tear.  No  offspring  had  she  over 
whose  death  to  mourn,  and  now  she  was  put  to  for 
a  companion  piece  to  sorrow.  But  her  mind  flew 
back  to  a  time  when  there  died  a  man  whom  she 
could  have  loved,  and  her  tears  came  full  with  the 
—  237  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

memory  of  a  blissful  morning  when  at  church  he 
had  tied  her  horse  and  walked  with  her  to  the  door. 
She  had  forgotten  his  name,  if  indeed  she  had  ever 
been  possessed  of  it,  but  she  spoke  of  him  as  "he" 
as  fast  as  her  tears  were  falling. 

"Ah,  Lord,  Sister  Starbuck,  I  don't  want  to  ques 
tion  the  ways  of  Providence,  but  it  do  appear  that 
we  have  staid  here  too  long.  I  ought  to  have  been 
taken  when  he  left." 

"You  mean  Barker,  Sister?" 

"Oh,  no,  I  mean  'he'.  I  can  remember  how  his 
hair  waved,  though  I  wasn't  but  sixteen  at  the  time; 
and  the  day  when  he  hitched  my  hoss  for  me,  all  the 
girls  looked  down-trod.  It  was  more  than  fifty  year 
ago." 

"Of  course  I  am  a  much  younger  woman,"  replied 
Sister  Starbuck,  "and  I  can't  look  back  an'  see  no 
man  but  J — J — Jasper." 

They  returned  to  their  silent  weeping,  and  after  a 
time  a  cup  of  coffee  was  suggested.  Sister  Barker 
objected.  Her  mind  was  so  full  of  the  past  that  she 
had  no  heart  to  swallow  the  devices  of  the  present, 
but  upon  persuasion  she  yielded;  and  when  the  cof- 


CAME  TO  WEEP. 

fee  was  drunk,  pipes  were  lighted  and  comfortably 
back  they  sat  and  talked  about  the  neighbors.  After 
a  while  an  old  carryall  wobbled  up  to  the  gate  and 
out  got  Mrs.  Spencer.  By  the  time  she  reached 
the  door-step  fresh  tears  were  falling. 

"Come  right  in,"  said  Margaret.  "I  am  so  glad  to 
see  you  at  this  time." 

"And  what  do  you  want  with  me — to  set  down  an' 
help  you  cry?  Wall,  I  ain't  of  the  cryin'  sort.  1 
put  my  cryin'  aside  when  I  got  outen  the  cradle." 
She  sat  down  and  with  a  palm-leaf  fanned  herself. 
"It's  a  plum  outrage,"  she  said.  "An'  what's  the 
matter  with  you,  Miz  Barker?  Ain't  lost  a  cow, 
have  you?  Why,  yo'  face  looks  like  a  old  rock 
atter  a  heavy  dew." 

Mrs.  Barker — they  were  not  sisters  now — wiped 
away  her  yellowish  tears.  ''I  have  the  right  to  cry 
if  I  feel  like  it,"  she  replied.  "I  was  a  thinkin'  of 
he." 

"A  thinkin'  of  the  cat's  foot,"  the  old  "heroic" 

snapped.     "You  mean  that  journeyman  hatter  that 

you've  talked  about  so  much?    He  was  drunk  half 

the  time  an'  wan't  worth  the  attention  it  would  take 

—  289  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

to  shove  him  into  the  river.  Conscience  alive,  you 
have  shed  enough  tears  over  him  to  drown  him. 
Now  quit  it  an'  let's  talk  business.  They've  got 
our  folks  in  jail  an'  they  air  goin'  to  keep  'em  there 
the  Lord  knows  how  long.  An'  if  the  law  didn't 
have  some  little  jestice  on  its  side  I'd  take  an  axe 
an'  go  down  there  an'  break  down  that  jail  door. 
But  you  know  that  Jasper  has  laid  himse'f  liable  an' 
so  has  my  boy,  for  knowin'  of  the  fact — an'  so  have 
we  all,  for  that  matter.  Hah,  I  was  jest  a  thinkin' 
when  Spencer  had  the  fight  at  Pettigrew's  mill. 
Them  Sarver  boys — ez  triflin'  a  lot  ez  ever  lived — 
had  him  down  when  I  rid  up  on  a  hoss.  An'  the 
fust  thing  they  know'd  I  stobbed  one  of  'em  between 
the  shoulder  blades — an'  they  thought  he  never 
would  git  well." 

"An'  they  killed  Spencer  right  there,"  said  Mar 
garet. 

"That's  true  enough,  but  they'd  a  killed  him 
quicker  if  I  hadn't  got  there.  Ah,  laws  a  massy,  the 
meanness  of  this  world.  An'  what  did  they  try  to 
do  with  me?  Hauled  me  up  befo'  cou't,  an'  thar  I 
went  with  little  Laz  in  my  arms,  an*  they  tried  me 
—  290  — 


CAME  TO  WEEP. 

fur — 'sault,  I  think  them  fetch-taked  lawyers  called 
it.  An'  I  says  'salt  or  sugar,  I'm  here,  an*  what  air 
you  goin'  to  do  about  it?'  They  fotch  money  again' 
me,  an'  the  lawyers  they  jawed  an'  they  palarvered; 
an'  finally  I  got  a  chance  to  speak  to  that  weak- 
kneed  jedge,  I  did,  an'  I  says,  'Look  here,  I've  a 
longer  knife,  an'  if  you  tell  this  jury  to  convict  me, 
I'll  put  about  a  foot  an'  a  half  of  it  under  yo'  rusty 
ribs.'  An'  you  better  believe  he  smiled  on  me. 
Margaret,  there  ain't  no  use  to  set  around  here  an* 
grieve.  In  this  here  world  grief  never  counted  fur 
nuthin'  yit.  Stir  about  an'  take  care  of  yo'  stock 
an'  you'll  feel  better.  Miz  Barker,  I  seed  you  a 
comin'  an'  I  know'd  you'd  make  things  worse,  so  I 
come  to  off-set  you.  An'  now,  if  we  air  goin'  to  be 
good  friends,  let's  talk  of  somethin'  pleasant.  Any 
body  dead  over  yo'  way,  Miz  Barker — I  mean  any 
body  that  ought  to  be?" 

This  interested  Mrs.  Barker,  and  upon  the  head 
she  tapped  into  sloth  her  rising  resentment.  "No 
body  dead,"  she  said,  with  a  smack  of  the  mouth, 
"but  Liza  Pruitt  ain't  expected  to  git  well." 

-291- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Oh,  is  that  the  one  they  had  the  talk  about  con- 
sarnin'  of  the  preacher?" 

"Yes,  Brother  Lane." 

"Brother  Fool.  But  atter  all,  not  half  as  big  a 
fool  as  she  was.  I  do  think  of  all  the  fools  in  the 
world  the  woman  that  gives  the  opportunity  for  'em 
to  hitch  up  her  name  with  a  preacher's — she's  the 
biggest.  Why,  don't  a  woman  know  that  every 
body  is  a  watchin'  of  a  preacher?  But  he  feels  him 
self  safer  than  any  man  in  the  world.  Befo'  I  was 
married  there  was  a  preacher  named  Collier  used  to 
come  to  see  me.  I  'lowed  he  was  a  single  man,  an* 
when  I  found  he  wan't  I  handed  him  his  hat  an'  I 
says,  I  does,  'Here,  put  this  on  an'  see  if  it'll  fit  you/ 
He  declared  that  it  was  a  past'ral  call,  an'  I  says, 
'Well,  then,  go  out  in  the  pasture/  Now  let's  put 
things  in  order  for  I'm  goin'  to  stay  all  night." 

She  was  imperious,  but  not  without  generosity, 
for  she  granted  to  Margaret  the  right  to  look  sad. 
But  she  would  brook  no  demonstration,  and  when 
Mrs.  Barker  sought  to  lead  Margaret  back  for  a  hic- 
coughey  stroll  along  the  dew-dripping  path,  she 
turned  upon  her  with  a  snap.  "Miz  Barker,  putty 
—  292  — 


CAME  TO  WEEP. 

soon  you'll  force  me  to  wring  you  an'  hang  you  out 
to  dry." 

And  what  were  the  antecedents  of  this  crankish 
old  woman?  Her  grandfather  was  hanged,  one  of 
John  A.  Murrell's  robbers ;  and  when  she  was  a  girl, 
her  father  fortified  his  log  house  and  fought  the  law 
that  strove  to  oust  him  for  lack  of  title.  She  had 
moulded  bullets;  and  when  both  her  father  and 
mother  had  been  wounded,  she  thrust  a  blunder 
buss  through  the  window  and  with  buck-shot  swept 
a  bloody  road.  But  her  generous  heart  had  kept 
her  poor,  and  her  back  was  bending  with  years 
made  heavy  by  loss  of  sleep,  sitting  up,  nursing  the 
sick. 

While  she  was  stirring  about,  making  ready  for 
supper,  Margaret,  giving  to  herself  a  sudden 
straightening,  stepped  forward  and  remarked: 

"Now,  Miz  Spencer,  you  air  mistaken  if  you  think 
you  air  any  gamer  than  I  am.  Why,  if  necessity 
demanded,  I  could  load  a  shot-gun  with  tears  an' 
scald  a  enemy  to  death.  I  don't  know  quite  as 
much  about  my  folks  as  you  do  yourn,  but  I  kin 
ricolleck  a  red  puddle  on  the  doorstep.  So  now.  we 

—293— 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

air  standin'  on  equal  ground.  Miz  Barker,  I  reckon 
it's  yo'  nature  to  cry,  so  jest  pitch  in  an'  cry  all  you 
want  to  while  we  air  gittin'  supper;  an*  then  in  the 
night,  I'll  change  yo'  pillow  every  time  it  gits  too 
wet  fur  you." 

"Gracious  me,  I  don't  want  to  cry  that  bad,"  Mrs. 
Barker  replied.  'There's  a  time  for  all  things,  an' 
I'm  from  a  fightin'  fam'ly,  too,  I'll  give  you  to  un 
derstand.  Have  you  got  any  right  young  pigs?  If 
you  have,  suppose  we  kill  one  an'  roast  it — 'twon't 
take  long/' 

This  suggestion  met  with  approval,  and  with  the 
help  of  Kintchin,  helloaed  out  of  a  nap  behind  the 
smoke-house,  a  pig  was  slaughtered  and  barbecued. 
In  Old  Jasper's  house  that  night  there  was  a  feast — 
a  strange  picture,  three  old  women  at  table  and  an 
old  negro,  with  watery  mouth,  standing  in  the  door. 

With  the  coming  of  daylight  Margaret  arose  while 
yet  the  others  slept,  and  breakfast  was  ready  with 
the  rising  of  the  sun. 

"You  must  be  plannin'  a  big  day's  work,"  said 
Mrs.  Spencer,  and  Margaret  replied:  "Yes,  for  I 
can't  see  the  end  of  it.  Kintchin,  ketch  the  gray 
—  294  — 


CAME  TO  WEEP. 

mare  an'  put  the  side  saddle  on  her.  An*  now,  you 
folks  kin  stay  here  jest  as  long  as  you  please." 

"Why,  where  air  you  goin'?"  Mrs.  Barker  in 
quired;  and  Margaret,  putting  a  pistol  in  the  pocket 
of  her  dress,  dropped  a  courtesy  and  said: 

'To  the  jail." 


—  295  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 
CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A   TRIP   NOT   WITHOUT    INCIDENT. 

With  a  few  silver  dollars  in  her  pocket,  chinking 
against  the  steel  of  her  pistol,  Margaret  jogged 
along  the  road.  In  observation  the  mountaineer  is 
always  minute;  each  day  is  a  volume  unto  itself,  and 
in  this  book  abound  many  pictures.  In  a  thorn- 
bush  the  old  woman  saw  a  mocking-bird  feeding  her 
young;  in  the  dust  she  saw  where  a  snake  had 
smoothed  his  way  across  the  road.  She  halted  to 
look  at  a  bare-legged  boy,  who  with  his  straw  hat 
was  seining  a  rivulet. 

Telling  the  time  by  the  sun,  she  dismounted  at 
noon  and  in  the  shade  of  a  wild  plum  thicket,  ate 
her  luncheon,  while  the  mare  cropped  the  sweet 
road-side  grass.  But  it  was  not  intended  that  her 
journey  should  be  without  event.  Along  toward 
four  o'clock  she  came  to  a  bridge  across  a  small 
stream.  The  planks  were  worn  with  heavy  hauling 
— the  whole  thing  dangerous,  and  into  a  hole  the 
mare's  foot  sank.  She  floundered,  fell,  and  when 
-  296  — 


A  TRIP  NOT  WITHOUT  INCIDENT. 

Margaret,  unhurt,  arose  out  of  the  dust,  she  saw 
with  horror  that  the  poor  creature's  leg  was  broken. 
The  mare  floundered  to  the  roadside  and  then  in 
misery  sank  upon  the  ground. 

"Poor  old  friend,"  said  the  woman,  with  sorrow 
in  her  voice,  tears  streaming  from  her  eyes,  but  in 
her  hand  was  the  pistol.  "Good-bye,  an'  don't  hold 
this  ag'in  me  fur  it's  all  I  can  do."  Close  to  the 
horse's  head  she  held  the  barrel  of  the  pistol — fired, 
and  without  looking,  resumed  on  foot  her  solitary 
way.  A  few  miles  further  on  she  halted  at  a  tavern, 
hoping  that  by  spending  the  night,  morning  might 
bring  along  a  friendly  wagon,  going  her  road;  and 
she  waited  until  the  sun  was  high,  and  then  set  out 
on  foot.  But  along  toward  ten  o'clock  she  was 
overtaken  by  a  huckster  in  a  cart.  She  asked  him  to 
let  her  ride  and  he  drew  up,  but  looked  suspiciously 
at  her. 

"I  asked  you  to  let  me  ride,  if  you  please.  I  had 
to  kill  my  po'  mare  'way  back  yander — broke  her 
leg  in  a  bridge." 

"What  sort  of  a  mare?" 

"Gray — one  of  the  best  old  nags  I  ever  saw." 
—  297  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Well,  where  air  you  goin'?" 

'To  Nashville.    Will  you  let  me  ride?" 

"Got  business  down  there,  I  take  it." 

"Yes,  or  I  wouldn't  want  to  go." 

"I  don't  know  about  that.  Women  folks  goes  a 
good  many  places  where  they  hain't  got  no  business. 
Ain't  a  runnin'  away  from  yo'  old  man,  air  you?" 

"No,  I'm  goin'  to  him." 

"Huh,  he  run  away  frum  you.     Is  that  it?" 

"No,  they  tuck  him  away.  Air  you  goin'  to  let 
me  ride?" 

"Tuck  him  away  for  what?" 

"They  have  accused  him  of  makin'  wild-cat 
licker." 

"Here,  give  me  yo'  hand  an'  I'll  help  you  up. 
Wait,  I'll  make  the  seat  soft  with  this  coat.  Now 
we're  all  right.  An'  I've  got  a  baked  turkey  leg  an' 
some  mighty  fine  blackberry  cordial — your'n." 

She  thanked  him,  and  when  she  had  eaten  and 
drunk,  he  began  to  apologize  for  his  slowness  in 
permitting  her  to  ride  with  him. 

"Ma'm,  I  didn't  know  but  you  mout  be  one  these 
here  women  preachers.  One  of  'em  come  up  into 


A  TRIP  NOT  WITHOUT  INCIDENT. 

my  neighborhood  an'  it  seemed  that  befo'  she  come 
nature  was  a  smilin'  like  she  was  waitin'  fur  her 
sweetheart.  Well,  me  an'  my  wife  went  to  hear 
her  preach,  an'  she  talked  right  well — never  hearn 
a  woman  talk  better — an'  she  cotch  the  folks. 
Worse  than  that,  she  cotch  my  wife  an'  turned  my 
home  into  a  hell,  an'  nature  shut  her  eyes  an7  all 
war  dark  fur  me.  Nothin'  would  do  my  wife,  but 
she  must  go  out  an'  preach  too.  I  begged  her — told 
her  that  I  loved  her  better  than  I  did  forty  gospels, 
an'  I  did;  but  she  would  go.  I  told  her  not  to 
come  back — but  one  night  about  three  months  atter- 
ward,  when  it  was  a  pourin'  down  rain,  an'  my  little 
child  was  a  cryin',  there  come  a  knock  on  the  door, 
an' — an'  I  know'd.  I  opened  it  an'  there  she  was  an' 
as  I  was  a  huggin'  of  her,  she  says,  'Jeff,  I  b'l'eve  a 
woman's  duty  is  at  home.  Christ  was  a  man.'  Ma'm, 
I  kin  haul  you  all  the  way  down  there.  I  know 
where  the  jail  is — I've  been  in  there — an'  I'll  take 
you  right  straight  to  it." 

"What  did  they  take  you  there  for?" 
"It  war  a  funny  thing.     I  went  up  in  the  hill 
country,  fur  up  from  my  home,  an'  the  man  what  I 
—  299  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

stopped  with  was  a  maker  of  licker — an'  atter  dark 
I  went  with  him  to  his  still  an'  helped  him  fetch 
some  wood  for  the  fire;  an'  jest  as  I  flung  down  a 
turn,  bang,  bang,  an'  here  was  the  government  men. 
Well,  they  tuck  us  down,  an'  of  course  I  know'd 
I'd  git  outen  it  for  I  hadn't  made  no  licker,  but, 
bless  you,  the  jedge  sent  me  to  the  penitentiary  for 
a  year;  an'  ever  sense  then  my  wife  she  'lows  that 
I'm  afeared  to  fetch  up  enough  wood  at  home. 
Ain't  a  cryin',  air  you'  ma'm?" 

'They  air  goin'  to  hang  Jasper,"  she  moaned. 

"You  don't  mean  Jasper  Starbuck.  Well,  I'll  be 
blamed,"  he  added,  reading  her  answer  in  her  tear- 
streaming  eyes.  "I  hope  not,  ma'm.  Did  you  ever 
hear  him  say  any  thin'  about  Jeff  Waters?  Mebby 
not,  fur  he  never  ricollecks  sich  things.  But  he 
toted  me  off  the  field  at  Shiloh  when  the  bullets  was 
like  a  swarm  of  bees.  That's  how  I  come  to  have 
this,"  he  said,  and  raising  his  left  leg,  hit  it  a  re 
sounding  whack  with  the  hickory  staff  of  his  whip. 
'Timber,  ma'm." 

That  night  they  were  given  shelter  at  a  farmer's 
house,  and  were  on  their  journey  again  by  the  ris- 
—  300  — 


A  TRIP  NOT  WITHOUT  INCIDENT. 

ing  of  the  sun,  but  shortly  afterward  the  cart  ran 
into  a  rut  and  one  of  the  wheels  was  broken.  Mar 
garet  petulantly  wondered  if  the  Lord  were  trying 
to  keep  her  from  reaching  Nashville,  and  Jeff  Wa 
ters  replied: 

"Well,  if  He  tries  right  hard,  He'll  hold  you  back 
all  right." 

In  the  woods  he  cut  a  pole,  braced  his  axletree, 
and  dragged  the  cart  four  miles  to  a  blacksmith's 
shop,  and  two  hours  afterward,  having  lost  much 
time  precious  to  the  woman,  they  were  again  jog 
ging  along  the  road.  They  put  up  at  a  tavern  at 
night,  Jeff  sleeping  in  his  cart  under  a  shed,  explain 
ing  that  he  was  now  close  enough  to  town  to  war 
rant  such  precaution  against  thievery. 

"I  don't  know  why  there  air  mo'  thieves  in  town 
than  in  the  country,"  he  said,  and  Margaret  chal 
lenged  his  admiration  and  aroused  his  surprise  by 
remarking: 

"I  reckon  it's  because  there  air  mo'  folks  in  town." 

He  told  her  that  she  was  gifted  with  fine  reason 
and  that  the  one  saying  alone  was  more  than  enough 
to  pay  her  passage. 

—  301  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

As  they  drew  nearer  to  town  she  began  to  grow 
nervous,  but,  with  her  woman's  tact,  exhibited  no 
astonishment  at  what  she  saw;  nor  did  she,  after 
entering  a  busy  street,  show  that  she  had  ever  been 
accustomed  to  a  scene  less  lively.  They  drove 
straightway  to  the  jail,  and  when  tremulously  she 
inquired  for  Jasper,  they  told  her  that  he  was  not 

there. 

#  *  *  *  * 

In  the  mountains  Tom  and  Lou  were  sojourning 
in  a  little  town,  when  by  chance  they  heard  of  the 
old  man's  arrest.  At  first  Lou  was  overcome  with 
alarm  and  grief,  but  her  husband  charmed  her  back 
to  enthusiasm  and  to  smiles. 

"Why,"  said  he,  "they  will  take  him  before  my 
father,  and  as  soon  as  I  get  there  the  governor  will 
turn  him  loose — be  tickled  to  do  it." 

"But  they  will  take  him  to  jail,  won't  they?" 

"Mebby,  if  they  don't  take  him  up  home.  By 
this  time  they've  found  out  all  about  him.  We'll 
drive  across  the  country,  get  on  a  railroad  train  and 
be  there  in  a  jiffy." 

—  302  — 


TWO  FRUITFUL  WITNESSES.- 
CHAPTER  XXIV. 

TWO  FRUITFUL  WITNESSES. 

Upon  the  case  of  the  illicit  distiller  Judge  Elliott 
had  ever  sat  with  utmost  severity.  As  a  colonel  of 
cavalry  he  had  distinguished  himself.  His  left 
sleeve  was  empty.  Lukewarm  friends  said  that  he 
was  harsh  and  unforgiving.  His  intimates  pointed 
to  the  fact  that  children  were  fond  of  him. 

One  morning  he  came  into  the  chambers  adjoin 
ing  the  court-room  and  for  a  long  time  sat  musing 
at  his  desk.  Capt.  Johnson,  U.  S.  Marshal,  and 
Foster,  deputy,  came  in  shortly  afterward,  the  cap 
tain  taking  a  seat  at  his  desk  and  Foster  standing 
like  a  sentinel  at  the  closed  door.  The  captain,  after 
examining  a  number  of  papers,  glancing  round  from 
time  to  time  as  if  to  note  whether  or  not  the  Judge 
had  come  out  of  his  abstraction,  remarked  to  Fos 
ter: 

"How's  your  barometer?  Or  should  I  call  it 
thermometer?" 

"Both,  I  guess,"  Foster  replied.    "I  have  two." 
—  303  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

He  meant  old  wounds,  foretellers  of  weather 
whims. 

"Are  we  going  to  have  rain,  Foster?" 

"Don't  know — I  feel  fair  weather." 

"My  instrument  may  be  a  little  acuter  than  yours. 
Mine  says  rain." 

The  Judge  looked  up.  "Rain  by  all  means,"  said 
he;  and  then  after  a  time  the  Captain  remarked: 

"Doesn't  appear  that  you  are  going  to  have  much 
of  a  vacation,  Judge." 

"That's  a  fact,  and  to  one  I  had  been  looking  for 
ward.  I  am  tired  of  this  everlasting  hum-drum, 
listening  to  false  statements  and  prying  into  the 
criminal  weaknesses  of  other  men.  The  Lord 
knows  that  we  have  weaknesses  enough  of  our  own. 
But  I  don't  see  any  immediate  relief.  The  criminal 
docket  precludes  any  adjournment.  And  I  have  a 
civil  case  under  advisement.  My  son  Tom  is  mar 
ried.  And  so  is  my  sister." 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  Marshal.  "When  did  all 
this  occur?" 

From  his  pocket  the  Judge  took  a  letter.  "Tom 
and  my  sister  went  up  into  the  mountains  and — 
—  304  — 


TWO  FRUITFUL  WITNESSES. 

this  letter  tells  all  I  know  about  it,  and  it  is  little 
enough : 

'Dear  Father:  I  have  married  a  mountain  girl  and 
auntie  has  married  her  cousin,  a  preacher,  but  a  good 
fellow  all  the  same.  I  called  it  a  double  stroke  of  light 
ning,  but  auntie  said  it  was  perfume  stealing  down  from 
the  wild  vines.  For  me  it  wasn't  anything  that  came 
stealing — but  with  a  jump.  As  soon  as  I  saw  her  I  said 
to  myself,  'wow,  I'm  gone.'  You  have  always  chided  me 
for  being  what  you  called  too  brazen  with  girls,  but  this 
girl  scared  me  in  a  minute.  It's  a  fact,  but  I  said  to  my 
self,  'Old  fellow,  what's  the  matter  with  your  knees?'  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  win  her  if  I  could,  but  she  kept  me 
cowed,  not  by  what  she  said,  for  she  didn't  say  much,  but 
by  what  she  looked.  Auntie's  husband's  preaching 
knocks  anything  I  ever  heard — that  is,  I  hear  it  does, 
for  he  hasn't  preached  for  us  yet.  I  would  have  written 
to  you  sooner,  but  the  creek  rose  suddenly  and  the  mail 
couldn't  get  over.  When  I  come  home  I  will  offer  my 
wife  as  a  plea  for  pardon,  and  if  you  don't  grant  it  I  will 
appeal  from  your  decision.  To-day  we  go  on  higher  up 
the  mountains  where  we  can  stand  on  tip-toe  (auntie's 
idea)  and  touch  the  honey-moon.  She  and  Jim  ain't  with 
us  at  present,  having  gone  over  to  his  preaching  grounds, 
fifteen  miles  from  here.  We  are  in  a  little  town  that 
looks  like  stage  scenery.  Haven't  seen  but  one  fellow 
that  looked  like  he  could  box.  If  my  wife  don't  object, 
I  may  try  him  a  few  rounds.  If  I  can  get  within  range 
I  may  draw  on  you,  as  I  am  about  broke.  Yours,  Tom.'  " 

The  Judge  slowly  folded  the  letter,  and  putting  it 
into  his  pocket,  remarked:  "The  rascal  doesn't 
even  tell  her  name." 

"Well,"  smilingly  replied  the  Marshal,  "her  name 
is  Elliott  now,  you  know." 

"Yes,"  the  Judge  mused,  "so  it  would  seem. 
"Draw  on  me  if  he  gets  within  range.  Oh,  he'll 
—  305  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

get  the  range  all  right.  I  have  never  known  him 
to  fail." 

"By  the  way,  Judge,  have  you  decided  to  take  up 
the  case  of  that  old  man  Starbuck  to-day?  He  is  in 
there,  ready." 

"Yes.  I  have  heard  that  he  was  a  gallant  soldier 
in  the  Union  army,  and  I  have  decided  to  examine 
him  here  in  chambers.  I  wish  to  save  him  every 
possible  humiliation.  And  I  don't  know  but  it  might 
be  well  to  examine  those  witnesses  here,  informally. 
Mr.  Foster,  bring  in  those  witnesses." 

Foster  opened  the  door,  stepped  out  into  the  cor 
ridor,  and  with  a  motion  of  his  hand,  commanded: 
"This  way,  you  two." 

And  into  the  room  came  Laz  and  Mose.  The 
Judge,  who  at  the  time  was  looking  over  a  paper, 
paid  no  attention  to  them  as  they  entered.  Laz 
took  off  his  hat  and  stood  near  the  desk,  staring  at 
him.  Nearer  the  Marshal  stood  Mose,  with  his  hat 
on.  The  Marshal  motioned  for  Mose  to  take  off  his 
hat  and  the  stammerer  made  similar  motions  at  the 
Marshal,  as  if  answering  a  flirtation.  The  Marshal 
made  a  sign  to  Foster,  who,  while  Mose  was  look- 
—  306  — 


TWO  FRUITFUL  WITNESSES. 

ing  in  another  direction,  advanced  and  took  off  his 
hat.  Mose  wheeled  about,  snatched  his  hat,  and, 
recognizing  Foster,  shook  hands  with  him.  Then 
he  shook  hands  with  the  Marshal,  turned  and  walked 
over  toward  the  Judge,  who  was  still  absorbed  in 
his  paper. 

"Judge,"  said  the  Marshal,  "these  are  the  wit 
nesses." 

Mose  stretched  forth  his  hand,  and  with  a  sharp 
pencil  rap  upon  the  desk,  the  Judge  commanded: 
"Stand  where  you  are." 

"If  you  air  the  Jedge,"  said  Laz,  gazing  intently, 
"I  am  sorter  diserp'inted  in  you.  I  thought  a  United 
States  Jedge  must  be  about  eight  feet  high." 

"Well,  never  mind  what  you  thought.     You  are 
here  to  tell  what  you  know.    Here,  you,"  he  added, 
speaking  to  Mose,  "what  is  your  name?" 
"M— M— M— M— M— M— " 
"Well,  never  mind.    Where  do  you  live?" 
"Well,  if  y — y — y — y — you  don't  know  a  feller's 
n — n — n — name  it  don't  m — m — >m — make  no  d — 
d — d — diffunce  whar  he  lives,  d — d — d — does  it?" 

Laz  struck  in.     "He  won't  tell  you  a  lie,  Jedge. 
He  won't  have  time." 

—  307  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

Rap,  rap,  at  Laz. 

"Never  mind,  sir.  I  will  attend  to  you  presently. 
You,"  he  said,  speaking  to  Mose.  "Did  you  ever 
see  Mr.  Starbuck  make  whiskey?" 

"Well,  I've  seed  him  m — m — m — m — make  1 — 1 — 
1— lasses." 

The  Judge  grew  impatient.  "Do  you  know  why 
you  are  here?" 

"B — b — b-— b— -because  they  c — c — c — c — cotch 
me." 

"No  nonsense,  sir." 

"P — p — p — p — pap  he  'lows  I  ain't  g — g — g — got 
no  sense  of  any  s — s — s — sort,  much." 

The  Judge  sighed.  "When  you  go  into  the  court 
room,  do  you  think  you  can  understand  the  nature 
of  an  oath?" 

"W — w — w — well,  I  ought  to.  I've  b — b — b — 
been  c — c — cussed  enough." 

And  Laz  broke  in:  "He  don't  cuss  hisse'f,  Jedge, 
but  he  knows  good  cussin'  when  he  hears  it." 

The  Judge  turned  upon  him.  "Will  you  please 
keep  quiet?  I  am  striving  to  deal  kindly  with  you, 
and  I  hope  you  will  not  lose  sight  of  that  fact."  He 

—308— 


TWO  FRUITFUL  WITNESSES. 

spoke  to  MovSe:  "How  far  do  you  live  from  Mr. 
Starbuck's  place?" 

"W — w — w — well,  you  can't  tell  h — h — how  far 
it  is,  the  r — r — road's  so  crooked." 

"Captain,"  said  the  Judge,  "this  boy  should  not 
have  been  brought  down  here.  Let  him  stand  aside. 
Over  here,"  he  said  to  Laz,  motioning;  and  Laz 
stepped  forward  as  if  measuring  the  distance. 

"About  here,  Jedge?" 

Rap,  rap! 

"Have  you  ever  seen  Mr.  Starbuck  make 
whisky?" 

"I've  seed  him  grind  co'n." 

"And  haven't  you  seen  him  boil  the  corn  after  it 
was  ground  into  meal?" 

"Yes,  suh.  They  cook  it  up  that  way  for  the 
hounds.  Thar's  a  feller  up  our  way  that's  got  mo' 
than  a  hundred  hounds.  They  call  him  hound  poor." 

Rap,  rap,  rap! 

''Let  me  tell  you  about  this  feller,  Jedge.  It  may 
have  some  bearin's  on  the  matter  in  hand.  This 
here  feller  goes  down  to  the  store,  kep'  by  the  post 
master,  once  a  week  an'  swops  off  a  hound  for  a  pint 
o'  licker.  One  day  he  tuck  down  the  biggest  hound 
-309- 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

you  ever  seed  an'  when  the  store-keeper  had  give 
him  the  pint  of  licker  this  here  feller  looks  at  his 
hound  an'  says,  'What!  don't  I  git  nuthin'  back- 
no  change?'  An'  the  store-keeper  give  him  back  a 
rat  tarrier  an'  a  bull  pup." 

In  spite  of  himself  the  Judge  ducked  his  head 
and  laughed,  and  the  Marshal  shook  his  sides.  But 
the  outburst  of  merriment  was  soon  over.  "That  is 
all  very  interesting  as  a  character  study,  but  we  are 
not  here  to  study  characters,  but  to  get  at  facts." 

Mose  had  moved  around  and  was  standing  near 
the  corner  of  the  Judge's  desk.  "I  w — w — w — wish 
I  could  talk  t— t—t— thatter  way." 

"Mr.  Foster,  take  this  boy  out." 

Foster  came  forward  and  Mose  seized  his  hand 
as  if  meeting  an  old  acquaintance  after  the  lapse  of 
many  years. 

The  Judge  spoke  to  Laz:  "When  you  go  in 
under  oath  you'll  have  to  be  more  careful.  Your 
drollery  might  send  you  to  jail.  You  may  go  now." 

As  Laz  turned  to  go  he  spied  on  the  Judge's  desk 
a  fancifully  wrought  ink-stand.    Slowly  moving  tow 
ard  the  desk  and  craning  his  neck  he  took  up  the 
—  310  — 


TWO  FRUITFUL  WITNESSES. 

ink-stand,  stroked  it  and  said:     "]edge,  I'd  like  to 
borry  this  thing.     Fetch  it  back  in  a  month  or  so." 

'Tut  it  down  and  get  out.    Wait  a  moment." 

"Told  me  to  get  out." 

Rap,  rap! 

"Hold  yourself  in  readiness  to  appear  before  the 
court.  Now  you  may  go." 

But  he  hesitated.  "Hope  you  ain't  miffed  at  me, 
Jedge,  for  sayin'  I  war  sorter  diserpp'inted  in  you. 
I  didn't  mean  no  harm;  an'  say'  Jedge,  you  ask  Old 
Jasper  an'  he'll  tell  you  whuther  he's  made  licker. 
He  ain't  one  of  the  sort  that  tells  a  lie,  Jedge,  an' 
I  hope  you'll  do  the  best  you  kin  fur  him;  an'  if  you 
have  to  send  him  to  the  penitentiary  I  hope  you'll 
let  me  take  half  the  time.  I'd  like  to  do  that  much 
fur  him.  As  fur  me,  Jedge,  it  don't  make  much 
diffunce  whuther  I'm  locked  up  or  not.  An'  say,  if 
it  ain't  stretchin'  a  p'int,  I'll  take  it  all,  but  don't  let 
him  know  how  it  come  about." 

The  Judge  looked  at  him  and  his  eye  was  not 
hard.    "Go  on,  young  man.    You  don't  know  where 
you  got  that  spirit  of  self-sacrifice — you  can  never 
know;  but  I  appreciate  it.    Go  on,  young  man." 
—  311  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 
CHAPTER  XXV. 

TOO    PROUD   TO    BEG. 

'The  old  man  may  tell  the  truth,"  said  the  Judge. 
"Mr.  Foster,  have  him  brought  in." 

Foster  stepped  -to  a  side  door,  opened  it,  looked 
in  and  beckoned.  He  stood  aside  and  old  Jasper 
walked  into  the  room. 

"Judge,"  said  the  Marshal,  "this  is  the  prisoner." 

"Where  is  the  Jedge?"  Jasper  inquired,  looking 
about. 

"This  is  Judge  Elliott,"  the  Marshal  answered, 
motioning. 

"Jedge  Elliott!" 

"Yes,  I  am  Judge  Elliott." 

He  stood  looking  straight  at  the  Judge.  "Then, 
suh,  I  can't  say  that  I'm  glad  to  meet  you." 

"Nor  I  to  meet  you,  under  such  circumstances, 
Mr.  Starbuck.  I  am  indeed  sorry  to  see  so  vener 
able  a  looking  man  brought  here  on  a  charge  so 
serious.  And  I  request  from  you  a  straightforward 

—  312  — 


TOO  PROUD  TO  BEG. 

Old  Jasper  turned  toward  Foster.  "I  can't  talk 
while  he's  in  here,  Jedge.  He  seed  me  in  jail  and 
r  can't  talk  befo'  no  man  that  has  seed  me  there." 

"You  needn't  hesitate  to  speak  within  his  hear 
ing,  Mr.  Starbuck.  He  was  a  soldier,  too." 

"What,  all  soldiers?  Then  I  have  been  tuck  into 
camp." 

"But  not  into  the  camp  of  your  enemies.  At  a 
time  when  your  state  took  up  arms  against  the 
Federal  government,  you  stepped  forth  to  fight  for 
the  Union,  and  it  is  in  consideration  of  this  fact 
that  I  grant  to  you  an  examination  here  in  cham 
bers,  to  save  you  every  possible  humiliation.  And 
now  I  ask  you — " 

"Jedge,  I  didn't  come  here  to  beg." 

"I  understand  that.  I  simply  request  a  straight 
forward  statement." 

"If  you  will  let  me  give  it  in  my  own  way,  Jedge, 
you  shall  have  it." 

"In  your  own  way,  Mr.  Starbuck.     Proceed." 

"Well,  then,  I'll  begin  at  the  beginnin'.     Jedge, 
I  live  away  up  in  the  hills.     My  grandaddy  settled 
there  an'  cleared  off  his  field  on  a  hill-side  where 
—  313  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

the  sun  struck  it  a  slantin'  an'  raised  his  co'n  an* 
made  his  licker  an'  the  gover'ment  never  said  a 
word.  One  day  him  an5  his  two  sons  was  a  workin' 
in  the  field  an'  all  of  a  suddent  they  heard  a  drum 
and  fife  over  in  the  road.  The  boys  looked  with  big 
eyes  an'  the  old  man  clim'  up  on  the  fence  and 
shouted,  'whut's  the  matter  here?'  and  a  man  with 
red,  white  an'  blue  ribbons  on  his  arm  cried  out, 
'Old  Andy  Jackson  needs  soldiers  to  go  to  New 
Orleans.'  An'  my  grandaddy  he  turns  roun'  to  the 
youngsters  an'  says,  'Come  on  boys/  They  went, 
suh,  an'  one  of  them  boys  he  didn't  come  back. 
Wall,  the  years  passed  an'  my  daddy  an'  my  oldest 
brother  was  a  workin'  in  that  same  field,  a  raisin' 
of  his  co'n  an'  a  makin'  of  his  licker — an'  mind 
you  the  gover'ment  never  had  opened  its  chops, 
fur  it  was  good  licker — an'  all  at  once  jest 
like  years  befo'  there  came  a  beatin'  of  drums 
an'  a  blowin'  of  fifes  over  in  the  road.  An'  my 
daddy  clim'  up  on  the  fence  an'  says,  'Whut's  the 
matter  now?'  An'  a  man  tuck  a  fife  outen  his 
mouth  an'  shouts,  'Mexico  has  trod  on  us  an'  we 
need  soldiers.'  An'  my  daddy  turns,  he  does,  an* 
—  3U  — 


TOO  PROUD  TO  BEG. 

says  to  my  brother,  'Come  on  Bob.'  They  went, 
Jedge,  an'  Bob  he  didn't  come  back.  Am  I  a  mak- 
in'  it  too  long?" 

"No,  Mr.  Starbuck,  proceed." 

''Do  it  sound  like  I'm  a  beggin'?" 

"No"  said  the  Judge,  "it  is  the  rude  epic  of  my 
country.  Go  on." 

"I  thank  you,  suh.  Well,  finally,  my  time  come. 
I  married  a  game  little  woman  an'  we  had  two  of 
as  fine  boys  as  the  world  ever  seen.  I  raised  my 
co'n  on  that  same  hill-side  an'  made  my  licker  an* 
the  government  never  said  a  word.  An'  when  me 
an'  them  boys  was  a  workin'  up  there  we  could  hear 
that  little  woman  a  singin'  down  at  the  house — a 
singin'  the  songs  of  glory  she  had  hearn  the  old 
soldiers  sing.  Well,  one  day  me  an'  them  boys — 
twin  boys,  Jedge, — was  a  hoein'  the  co'n  in  the 
field.  I  ricolleck  it  jest  as  well  as  if  it  was  yistidy. 
An'  atter  all  these  years  I  can  hear  that  song  a 
comin'  up  from  the  house.  An'  then — then  come 
that  same  thrillin'  noise,  the  beatin'  of  drums  an'  a 
blowin'  of  fifes.  We  clim'  up  on  the  fence,  jest  like 
my  granddaddy  an*  my  daddy  had  done,  an'  I  cried 
—  315  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

out,  'Whut's  the  trouble  now?'  The  drums  stopped, 
an'  one  of  the  men  raised  his  flag  up  high  an' 
shouted,  The  country  is  a  splittin'  up  an'  the  Union 
needs  soldiers.'  An'  I  says,  'Come  on,  boys.'  I  can 
look  back  now,  Jedge,  an'  see  that  little  woman  a 
standin'  under  a  tree  a  wavin'  us  a  good-bye  with 
an  old  flag.  I  can  see  her  yit.  Jedge,  we  went 
down  into  the  fiery  furnace.  We  seed  the  flag 
droop  an'  fall,  an'  then — then  rise  in  victory.  Yes, 
I  seed  it.  But  my  boys — my  boys  that  was  like 
picturs  in  the  book — they  was  left  at  Gettysberg. 
An'  when  that  po'  little  woman  hearn  that  they 
wan't  comin'  back,  she  pined  away  an'  died — an' 
when  I  come  home  a  bleedin',  there  was  a  grave 
under  the  tree  where  we  had  seed  her  a  standin' 
jest  befo'  we  went  down  beyant  the  hill.  I — " 

"Mr.  Starbuck— " 

"Wait  a  minit,  Jedge,  I  ain't  through  yit.  What 
did  I  know  how  to  do  when  I  got  back  to  work? 
What  had  my  grandaddy  an'  my  daddy  done?  I 
went  to  raisin'  of  my  co'n  an'  a  makin'  of  my  licker, 
an'  still  the  gover'ment  never  said  a  word.  But 
atter  a  while  I  hearn  it  was  ag'in  the  law,  an'  I  says, 
—  316  — 


TOO  PROUD  TO  BEG. 

'me  an'  all  my  folks  have  been  a  sheddin'  of  our 
blood  for  our  country,  an'  some  of  them  fellers  that 
makes  the  laws  never  done  that.'  But  I  stopped 
sellin'  the  licker.  I  made  it  whenever  I  wanted  to, 
somehow  jest  for  a  old  time's  sake,  an'  I  sent  it  to 
sick  folks — sent  some  of  it  to  our  ripresentative  in 
Congress,  right  into  the  heart  of  the  gover'ment  an' 
not  a  word  was  said." 

"Old  man—" 

"I  ain't  quite  through  yit,  Jedge.  The  neighbors 
knowd  that  I  made  licker  when  I  wanted  to  an' 
they  never  said  nuthin',  but  lately  a  scoundrel  took 
it  into  his  head  to  give  me  trouble.  Fust  he  wanted 
to  marry  my  daughter  an'  then  he  threatened  that 
unless  I'd  give  him  a  thousand  dollars — but,  Jedge, 
I'd  seen  him  in  hell  fust!" 

"You  must  not  use  such  language,  Mr.  Starbuck. 
You  are  before  the  law." 

"Excuse  me,  suh,  excuse  me.  Wall,  an'  they 
brought  me  down  here,  an'  here  I  am.  That's  all, 
Jedge." 

The  Judge  arose.    "Old  man,  you  are  a  patriot, 

—  317  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

from  a  race  of  patriots,  and  in  my  heart,  I  can 
hardly—" 

There  came  a  rap  at  the  door.  Foster  opened  it 
and  Margaret  rushed  into  the  room. 

"Jasper!"  she  cried,  running  to  him. 

He  put  his  arm  about  her.  "Margaret,  how  did 
you  get  away  down  here?" 

"Mr.  Starbuck,"  the  Judge  began,  but  with  a 
pleading  gesture  the  old  man  cut  him  off.  "Please 
don't  say  nothin'  mo'  while  she's  in  here." 

"I  come  a  ridin'  an'  a  walkin'  the  best  I  could," 
Margaret  moaned,  looking  about,  "an'  Jasper,  I 
watered  the  flowers  down  there  under  the  tree  befo' 
I  come,  because  I  knowd  it  would  please  you.  An' 
if  they  hang  you,  they've  got  to  hang  me,  too. 
Jedge,  there  ain't  no  better  man  than  he  is,  an'  for 
the  Lord's  sake  don't  hang  him."  She  sank  upon 
her  knees;  but  Jasper  quickly  lifted  her  to  her  feet. 
"There,  you  must  never  do  that." 

"Madam,"  said  the  marshal,  "Judge  Elliott 
wouldn't — " 

"Jedge  Elliott!"  she  gasped,  and  Jasper  whis 
pered  in  her  ear:  "Don't  let  him  know  that  his  son 
—  318  — 


TOO  PROUD  TO  BEG. 

has  married  our  daughter.  He  would  think  we  was 
a  beggin'." 

"Mrs.  Starbuck,"  the  Judge  kindly  spoke,  "will 
you  please  retire  until  we  have  concluded  this  ex 
amination?" 

"Yes,  suh,  but  let  me  tell  you  about  him,  Jedge. 
I  was  po'  an'  I  didn't  have  no  home  an'  I  was  al 
most  starvin'  an'  he  married  me,  an' — you  do  love 
me,  don't  you,  Jasper?" 

"Yes,  now  go  on  as  the  Jedge  tells  you.  Go  on 
an'  it  will  be  all  right  an' — " 

"You'll  come  too,  won't  you?" 

"Yes,  I'll  be  there  putty  soon.  That's  right,  now, 
go  on." 

At  the  door  she  halted,  and  before  going  out, 
summed  up  all  her  arguments — a  pitiful  courtesy. 

"Mr.  Starbuck,"  said  the  Judge,  "I  am  told  that 
in  resisting  arrest  you  so  badly  injured  a  deputy 
that  he  is  not  able  to  be  here  to-day.  I  am  inclined 
in  every  way  to  favor  you,  but  that,  as  you  must 
know,  is  a  very  serious  charge." 

"Jedge,  that  ain't  true.  I  didn't  resist  arrest.  Let 
me  tell  you  about  that  man  Peters.  I  have  had  mo* 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

than  one  cause  to  kill  him  in  se'f-defense,  but  I 
didn't  want  to  do  that.  A  man  that  has  seed  as 
much  blood  as  you  an'  me  has,  don't  want  to  kill 
nobody  if  he  kin  help  it.  Jedge,  he  is  a  hound. 
I  had  surrendered  to  the  law  and  was  standin'  with 
my  hands  up,  an'  he  come  a  runnin'  to  kill  me  with 
a  knife,  an'  I  smashed  his  infernal  countenance. 
No,  I  didn't  resist  arrest." 

Foster  stepped  forward.  "Will  your  honor  please 
permit  me  to  speak  a  word.  I  was  in  charge  of  the 
expedition  and  the  old  man  tells  the  truth.  Deputy 
Peters  did  try  to  kill  him." 

"Captain,"  solemnly  remarked  the  Judge,  "issue 
an  order  for  the  arrest  of  Deputy  Peters,  and  my 
word  for  it,  Mr.  Starbuck,  he  shall  be  dealt  with  se 
verely.  And  now,  old  man,  I  may  be  exceeding  my 
authority,  but  I  have  not  the  heart  to  send  you  to 
prison.  Promise  me  that  if  I  permit  you  to  go 
home  you  will  not — " 

"Jedge,  my  granddaddy  an'  my  daddy  didn't 
have  to  make  no  sich  promises  to  the  government 
they  help  to  save." 

The  Judge  walked  up  and  down  the  room.  "Cap- 
—  320  — 


TOO  PROUD  TO  BEG. 

tain,  I  haven't  the  heart  to  send  him  to  prison — I 
cannot.  And  Mr.  Starbuck,  if  the  marshal  does  not 
see  you,  walk  out." 

"Judge,"  the  marshal  spoke  up,  turning  his  back, 
"my  old  eyes  are  so  bad  I  can't  see  anything." 

Both  men  stood  with  their  faces  turned  away. 
Jasper  looked  at  them.  Then  came  Margaret's 
voice,  calling,  "Jasper,  Jasper." 

"I'm  a  comin'  Margaret,  I'm  a  cornm',"  and 
slowly  he  walked  toward  the  door.  But  at  that  mo 
ment  there  was  a  commotion  in  the  corridor,  Mar 
garet  was  heard  to  cry  out,  "Why,  where  did  you 
all  come  from,"  and  then  Tom,  followed  by  Lou 
and  Margaret,  came  hastily  into  the  room.  Jasper 
hastened  to  his  daughter  and  whispered: 

'''Remember  who  you  are." 

The  Judge  was  not  looking.  Tom  walked  round 
in  front  of  him. 

"Why!"  exclaimed  the  jurist,  still  seeing  no  one 
but  Tom,  "When  did  you  get  back.  And  where  is 
your — " 

"Got  back  this  minute.  I  have  come  to  see  you 
about  Mr,  Starbuck." 

—  321  — 


THE  STARBUCKS. 

"Too  late.    He  is  discharged." 

"I — I — thank  you.    He  is  my  wife's  father." 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  Judge,  turning  about, 
and  then  he  saw  Lou,  standing  with  Margaret  and 
the  old  man.  He  held  out  his  hand  and  the  girl 
came  timidly  to  him.  About  her  he  put  his  one 
arm;  upon  the  forehead  he  kissed  her:  "The 
daughter  of  patriots — my  daughter.  Mr.  Starbuck, 
why  didn't  you  tell  me?" 

"Jedge,"  the  old  man  replied,  "it  would  have 
looked  like  I  was  a  cringin'.  I  know  how  to  bleed 
for  my  country,  but  I  don't  know  how  to  beg  for 
myse'f." 


THE  END. 


—  322  — 


Announcement 


This  book  was  written  from  the  drama  of 
"THE  STARBUCKS/'  produced  at  the  Dearborn 
Theatre,  Chicago,  with  the  following-  cast : 

JASPER  STARBUCK, EMMETT  CORRIGAN 

MARGARET  STARBUCK,  his  wife,  LOUISE  RIAL 

LOU  STARBUCK,  his  daughter,     .  MAMIE  RYAN 
JIM  STARBUCK,  his  nephew,     .     .     HARRY  BURKHART 

LIJE  PETERS,     .     .     .•    .     .     .     .  THOMAS  COLEMAN 

TOM    ELLIOTT, HARRY  STUBBS 

JUDGE  ELLIOTT,  his  father,     .     .  JOHN  STEPPLING 

MRS.  MAYFIELD,  his  aunt,  .     .     .  GRACE  REALS 

KINTCHIN, WILLIAM  L.VISSCHER 

BLACK  MAMMY, NANETTE  FRANCIS 

LAZ  SPENCER, WILLIAM  DILLS 

MOSE  BLAKE, WILLIAM  EVARTS 

CAPTAIN    JOHNSON,      .     .     .     .  C.  M.  GIFFIN 

FOSTER,  deputy  marshal  ....  GEORGE  BOTTS 

SAMUEL  M.  FOREST,  STAGE  MANAGER 

The  illustrations  for  this  edition  (coy righted, 
1902,  by  William  H.  L,ee),  are  made  from 
photographs  of  the  actual  scenes  and  people 
of  the  play. 


THE  DEAD  CITY 


a 

By  GABRIELE    D'ANNUNZIO 

RENDERED  INTO  ENGLISH  BY  PROF. 
G.  MANTELLINI.  ILLUSTRATIONS 
FROM  THE  STAGE  PRODUCTION  OF 

-  ELEONORA    DUSE  

MADE  EXPRESSLY  FOR  THIS  WORK, 
WITH  COSTUME  PORTRAIT  OF  THE 
ACTRESS  IN  COLORS 

Cloth,  ornamental  cover,   (£  1    O  C 
illustrated, 4)  1 .  ^  J) 


LAIRD    &    LEE,    PUBLISHERS 

CHICAGO,  U.  S.  A. 


Read,   O.P 


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